Violence, Voyeurism and Vigilantes
by efleck
Summary: In matters of life and death, it's our journey to understand the universe, ourselves and those we care about that keeps us truly alive. For many that path includes love, loss, betrayal & violence. FemShepXGarrus. Covers time from ME2-3, flashbacks to ME1, graphic.
1. Chapter 1

Violence, Voyeurism and Vigilantes

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Efleck

Disclaimer: mass effect and all characters belong to Bioware and EA. I'm only playing with them.

Apologies if my wording seems a little backwards (French immersion student). Also, some of this story has been converted from Canadian spelling to American, so there may be some back and forth.

SPOILERS for all games (just to be safe), DLC, some references to novel and comics but nothing critical

This story takes place during the beginning of Mass Effect 2 and bridges the gap between that game and the third, referencing ME1. It combines present elements (not italicized) and past events (italicized).

Rated MA for graphic sex, violence, language, more violence, etc, etc...

Wonderfully beta'd in part by rebel666 and entirely by Spyke1985. Completed and posted due entirely to the support and coaxing of my readers.

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Chapter 1

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"Officer Vakarian, could you come to my office?"

Deft gloved hands paused over the main battery console. The soft cradle of monotonous work that had been numbing him to the world had been irrevocably interrupted. The voice on the comm was not one the gunnery officer normally had to answer to, and truth be told, he wasn't going to start now.

"Can it wait? I'm in the middle of some calibrations," the turian drawled out, his mandibles flaring momentarily in amusement. It was a line he took great pleasure in tossing around, though he was always careful to revealed nothing but complete seriousness.

Calibrations - a convenient word that everyone on-board the ship now understood meant 'busy'.

"Of course," the woman's icy voice grated out with forced pleasantness. "Please, come see me at your earliest convenience. I need to speak to you regarding the Commander." Miranda always sounded cool and professional, but the hint of smugness that clung to Shepard's title easily betrayed her severe and calculating nature.

The turian's hands paused, and when he spoke again his voice came out gruff, flanging to an almost growl; "Understood."

Unfortunately there were a few people on board who had discovered the antidote for calibration.

Jaw clenching, he ground his teeth to stave off the practically unbearable desire to ask a slew of questions as he walked away from his post - what was wrong? Had something happened? His need to know was suddenly consuming him. Nagging slivers of panic began to inexplicably travel up his spine.

_Get a grip Vakarian_, he scolded himself.

Garrus had been back on-board the Normandy SR-2 for a little more than a week. He huffed to himself as he thought about it. It was true, he hadn't thought in human time increments for a while... two years in fact. In so many ways, it had been easy to fall back into the old routines of a human operated vessel. Though the ship had changed, it still somehow felt like home. Despite it being full of Cerberus uniforms, he was surprised to discover the crew was polite and professional. It also helped that Shepard had been down to speak with him several times since his arrival. She was characteristically polite and concerned, always checking on him.

On the surface she was just as he had remembered – but at the same time he couldn't help but feel as though she were completely different. There was a distance in her words. Each time she stepped through the main battery doors he had found himself distracted, hyper aware of her every nuance - each movement and expression bringing her more clearly into focus. It was impossible for his mind not to desperately attempt to commit it all to memory. Just in case _it_ happened again.

More than once he had caught himself staring hard at the graceful angle of her jaw, the feminine curve of her shoulder, the intense look in her green eyes as she considered him.

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_His arms and legs ached. The hide on his trigger finger was raw below the talon, the joints stiff. Bolts of pain shot through his neck every time he bent over to look through the scope of his rifle. His visor had been keeping track of the body count and the hours, but the steadily climbing numbers were causing his empty stomach to knot, so he'd turned the display off._

_Another wave of mercs started over the barricade and Omega's Archangel grunted as he once again looked through his scope. He picked off one, then another. Poor talonless fools, what a waste of life. No, it didn't matter – they were just another part of the poison rotting the station from the inside. A soft voice in his head reminded him that these hired guns were just kids and people with debts to pay. Always the voice of reason, she was. He shook off the thought. "They're scum," he muttered aloud in a vain attempt to justify the slaughter. Archangel had committed himself to go out fighting, and he was prepared to kill anything that came at him, until he either died by the gun or from exhaustion._

_'Sounds like suicide' the same voice whispered in his mind before his military training urged his focus back onto the battle field. His tired, blood shot eyes narrowed as he pressed the cold metal of the scope to his face. Three mercs bringing up the rear, suspiciously well armed, working as a well coordinated unit. He frowned. These three looked organized, possibly even dangerous adversaries instead of just the usual bullet fodder._

_His endurance had been waning; the chemical stimulants he'd once sworn never to use had run out several hours earlier, leaving his mind foggy with exhaustion. In his current state, as he watched the approaching mercs, he had a sudden moment of clarity as he realized he was most likely living his final moments. It hit him hard in a rush of adrenaline and like a cornered animal his heart began to race and his muscles tensed for action._

_Closing his eyes briefly, Archangel took a deep breath, trying to calm the shaking in his hands. As his nostrils wrinkled he paused. There was something in the air; a scent on the stale Omega breeze like a long forgotten memory. So familiar, it sliced through his cloudy mind like a razor._

_It was almost like..._

_...Her._

_It was all in his head, he told himself, just the illusions of a tired mind in a hopeless situation. He felt his muscles relax in acceptance. "Come to see me off?" he whispered to the empty room and swathed body bags. He couldn't help the slight waver in his voice as he addressed his ethereal companion. As always, she listened quietly._

_Composing himself, his eyes opened and he discharged the rifle's heat sink._

_"I will be with you again soon," he mumbled quietly as he rammed home a new thermal clip. There would be no galactic wide headlines announcing his death as there had been for her. No yearly memorial, or raised glasses or monuments. But it didn't matter. He would make her proud; he would die fighting just as she had._

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Garrus was already making his way past the Mess Hall, ignoring the curious glances from the crew mulling about. His confident strides took him past them, giving them an unconcerned look. He was well beyond giving a pyjak's ass about what these Cerberus assholes thought. Besides, if he were a human walking around a turian ship, he'd be getting the same treatment – in fact probably worse.

When he stepped through the doors to Miranda's office, he found Shepard's XO seated casually at her desk, not in the least surprised that Garrus was already at her door. She motioned to the chair in front of her to which he hesitated momentarily before forcing himself to relax and sit. He had been in enough interrogation rooms to know that he should keep a cool demeanour, but the calculating gaze of the Cerberus woman in front of him was making him uncomfortable.

Damn he was out of practice.

"Officer Vakarian," Miranda began, her gaze piercingly cool, "I need your help."

Surprise registered on Garrus' face for just a moment, despite his efforts to not reveal anything, it was enough for her to notice.

"I know you don't trust me, and I understand that. But I need you to do something that may affect the success of the mission."

Garrus' arms crossed in a deliberate show of defiance, "I thought you said you wanted to speak to me about the Commander."

Someone with experience reading turian facial expressions would have recognized his immense displeasure at having been manipulated into rushing to her office. It really didn't seem like a good way to earn someone's trust... And it irked him that just mentioning Shepard's name had made him jump like an obedient varren.

"That's exactly what I need your help with. Look, I don't know how much she's told you about what's happened in the past two years, but-"

"She was dead. That's what happened," he responded mater-of-factly.

Miranda ignored his indignant remark and continued. "When we received the Commander's body, it wasn't much more than bones, meat and carnage." Garrus felt his stomach tighten, and he opened his mouth but Miranda held up her hand to silence him. "We spent two years putting her back together, piece by piece, exactly as she was. When she was ready to be re-awakened there was supposed to be several weeks of psychological testing and counselling." Miranda's hard eyes softened infinitesimally and she sighed, running a wiry hand through her black hair. "When the compound came under attack, I had to wake Shepard early. With Taylor's help, we fought our way out. The result - several weeks of planned psychological testing were reduced to a few questions on the shuttle."

"I'm following," Garrus grunted out.

"There just wasn't enough time."

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_Archangel looked again at the leader of the three determined mercs. Female, human judging by her helmet... armour and weapons screamed military, maybe N7... His rifle let out a casual pop as a poorly armoured merc farther ahead stumbled and fell in a shower of his own blood. Returning his eyes to follow the leader of the squad, a shuddering breath escaped the exhausted turian. So familiar... that gait, the movement of her hands as she signalled her companions. Without much attention, the turian picked off another mindless merc, before returning his gaze to this curious squad. They were making quick time. Soon they would be inside. _

_Another adversary stepped out from behind a nearby crate and Archangel swung his sniper rifle to take out the threat. Just as his finger squeezed the trigger, the merc collapsed to the side and toppled over the edge of the bridge. His hollow shot rang out a miss as he stared at the space the body had once been.  
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_That human female was killing the other mercs._

_He couldn't be sure, after all he'd been awake and holding his rifle for how long, he didn't even know anymore. Instinct told him to nail her with a concussive shot instead of a live round as the three approached the compound. When he did, she stumbled, but quickly regained her footing before leading the team through the entrance beneath._

_Listening to the commotion below, he heard gunfire, yells... now steps on the stairs. Voices at the sealed door..._

_Archangel knew this was it. He had let in his executioners. Years of searching, of fighting, of long nights looking into the darkness. It was all about it end.  
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_The door lock beeped and protested as it was overridden. The smooth swish of the door opening brought three other heavy breaths to mix with his own in the heavy silence. The muscles in his shoulders tensed as he anticipated the bullet in his back._

_But there was none._

_"Archangel?"_

_He held up his hand without turning, taking the chance to catch the last merc with a single shot._

_That voice - exactly as he remembered. Spirits, it sounded so real. Was he losing his mind? He closed his eyes. All those nights with that unshakable feeling that she was with him... standing behind him. That heady smell that was only hers, that had haunted him for all those months, now flooded his dull senses._

_What if I turn around and it's only shadows?_

_The three visitors were waiting patiently behind him. The turian's heart raced, his breath shallow from excitement and fear. Cautiously he pulled off his helmet and turned to face them._

_"Garrus!" her arms were wide, eyes bright, standing before him like some beautiful mirage on the Palaven horizon, beckoning him farther out into the burning light from a place that had been dark and cold for so long._

_"Shepard." His voice sounded stale and flat, even to his own ears. "I thought you were dead," he admitted, his shock cancelling out the emotion that should have been heavy in his voice. Instead his statement sounded as though derived from the most basic logic, rationally explaining why she was having to discover him there, alone, surrounded by piles of bodies - enemies and allies._

_All he knew for sure was that she stood before him, flesh and blood, talking to him, her face alive and animated._

_Not dead._

_How was it even possible?_

_She was happy to see him, and on some level he knew he was answering her questions. In the fog of disbelief, his dark mood was vanishing, like he hadn't been nursing it for so many long months. But he was so tired, his adrenaline strained mind was having trouble merging the ghost in his mind with this living, breathing vision in front of him._

_Dying here was no longer an option._

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"So what does this mean?" It sounded more like a statement. Garrus' taloned fingers had curled up into fists as he waited for the XO's response.

"I need you to speak with Shepard. You were her friend before she died and she trusts you. I have already tried to speak with her, but she stonewalls me at every turn. I had asked Dr. Chakwas to talk to her, but unfortunately the Commander is quite skilled at guarding her mental state..."

"I'm not a psychologist," Garrus scoffed, folding his arms and hoping that the woman would get the message that he wasn't interested in playing Cerberus spy.

"Exactly, you're not a doctor and you're not Cerberus. I know I can't force you to do this, but I - everyone needs to know that Commander Shepard is mentally sound. She was two years of my life, and I don't like doing anything half-assed. She wears her Commander mask quite well, but if she isn't mentally stable then lives could be at risk. I'm only asking that you speak with her, and then let me or the doctor know what her condition is."

Of course they would make it sound so easy.

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_He was out of the med bay as soon as he was conscious. Dr Chakwas and to his surprise, a salarian doctor he recognized from Omega, had tried and failed to prevent him from diving into his equipment, which had been stacked in the corner._

_"Where is Shepard?" he grunted, wincing at the terrific pain in his face and neck as he shrugged on the pieces of charred armour and slid his eyepiece back on._

_"She's in the comm. room - Garrus wait-" the med bay doors cut off Chakwas' protest. He became vaguely aware of the hush that fell upon his audience in the Mess Hall. Several pairs of big human eyes watched him as he came to a sudden halt. They were frozen, as if a large predator had just stumbled into their camp as they were licking the remains of their lunch off their fingers. Typical prey response._

_Trying to ignore them, his visor picked up on the large human script across the walls which declared his location as the Normandy. But that couldn't be right... that ship had been destroyed... hadn't it? If this was the Normandy, why did everything look as though it had been rearranged? _

_New ship, new crew, new Shepard; what else had changed?_

_Disorientation from the after effects of his sedation and his unfamiliar surroundings, Garrys was stalled just outside the med bay doors. He glanced back at the speechless humans still sitting, still watching intently._

_'Elevator' his visor highlighted in red and he quickly left the crew to their meal, their quiet murmurs following him into the lift._

_When the doors opened at deck two, a startled human female turned to him and seemed to read the confusion on his face. She pointed him towards the door on his right. "Two doors, then hang a right and a left." He didn't ask questions... just nodded absently._

_His abilities in judging human facial expressions had jumped leaps and bounds since his years at C-Sec, but now, as the Comm. Room doors opened and he met his Commander's eyes, he felt uncertainty blossom within him.  
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_Relief? Surprise? Something else in her eyes as she stood, _arms crossed, facing him from across the room_. _

_Seeing her again sent his mind reeling. Without the stim and medigel induced haze clouding his judgment, he could finally confirm that yes, she really was alive. It hadn't all been a dream after all, and it took some effort for him not to choke on his own disbelief. The pain of his injuries was quickly fading in his sudden euphoria. _

_From the back of his mind, unexpected images flickered to the surface; closing the gap between them, pressing himself against her warm flesh, inhaling her scent, nibbling on the soft curve of her neck - wait, what? _

_This was Shepard - the real Shepard, not some fantasy. He needed to take a step back. _

_Surely what he was feeling now was just a primal, if not delayed, reaction to being so happy to see his Commander alive._

_Of course it was._

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Garrus nodded at Gardner as he entered the mess hall. The human nodded back as he poured the turian a glass of the usual – which for the past few days had been a rather bland fruit powder mixed with hot water.

"Looking a little frazzled there, Officer Vakarian."

"Turians don't get 'frazzled'," Garrus murmured as he leaned against the counter, sipping the hot liquid the mess sergeant had procured for him.

"Sure they don't. And I don't get my hands dirty when I clean toilets," Gardner responded sarcastically.

"Hey Garrus," a voice called out from behind him. The turian turned, steaming pitcher shaped mug in his talons. The lunchtime crowd was looking up at him from their seats at the table. "You and the Commander go way back, I bet you've got some great stories."

The crewmen at the table all hummed in agreement, supporting the brave individual who had dared address the rough looking, sole turian on-board. Garrus had to give the guy credit. He hadn't really been in the mood lately for jovial chit chat, even still Garrus gave them a dubious shake of his head as he considered indulging them.

"Oh come on Vakarian! You've seen her in action; can't you give us even an anecdote?" the crewman urged.

Garrus surveyed the eager faces looking up at him and realized that Miranda was right. All these people were here to help Shepard defeat this unknown enemy and they should at least be confident that their Commander had her head on straight, especially if they were expected to follow her through the gates of hell. _He_ might be able to do it without question, but these people deserved some reassurance.

"The Commander is a remarkable woman..." he began, and instantly grins broke out on the faces of the human crew. Grins were followed quickly by whistles and other strange noises Garrus hadn't often heard human's make, but they almost seemed... suggestive. Ignoring them, he continued. "She can convince an enraged krogan warlord the benefits of peace, or just as easily cut off his quad. She is an outstanding leader. I am honoured to be her friend and to fight by her side." The crewmen nodded their agreement, and raised their mugs and glasses with a few 'here here's, and 'cheers to that'.

Garrus turned back to the mess sergeant.

"Never heard a turian make a toast before," Gardner remarked as he lazily wiped down the counter tops. "You going to be the new morale officer?"

Garrus read the joke in the creases around older man's eyes. "Hardly. Besides, toasts aren't really my strong point... that was more of an alternative to telling a long drawn out war story."

"Are you kidding? These guys love that stuff. You should stop eating in the middle of the night and join the crew at dinnertime. There's a pretty good crowd, and the crew is always looking for some entertainment... I bet you and the Commander could tell some really fantastic tales." He paused and eyed the turian curiously. "Joking aside, she speaks very highly of you."

"Oh?" Garrus put as much of a casual tone in his voice as he could muster.

"The few times she has joined the crew for dinner she is usually suckered into telling a story or two. You feature in a lot of them." The man winked as he tossed the dirtied rag into the recycle chute and continued, "I think she's giving you too much credit though."

"Yeah, probably," Garrus chuckled, offering the man his empty glass. Gardner took it absently, adding it to the other dishes waiting to be cleaned.

"She was talking about Agebinium a few nights ago. She did quite a good impression you when you uncovered that bomb. 'Orders Commander!'" The human yelled in a gruff voice before laughing. "I think she may have thought you doubted her ability to disarm that nuclear warhead." Gardner was still laughing, and Garrus just shook his head, still able to recall the relief he had felt as the antiquated human probe powered down years earlier.

"Well disarming nuclear devices isn't exactly standard Alliance training, is it?" Garrus sighed. "That all seems so long ago now."

"For you maybe, but she's just woken up from a long nap." The human planted his hands on the counter and shook his head. "Must be some strange waking up as the living dead."

"I'm sure it must."

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_News of the battle was on the lips of every sentient being within the known galaxy. It's was the topic in every elevator, every stairwell, and on every vid display in the Citadel. Information was vague at best, though one thing was certain... the Normandy, the Alliance's iconic ship and the vessel of the celebrated Commander Shepard, had been destroyed by an unknown vessel in the Terminus. Reports suggested most of the crew had survived._

_Most._

_He had spoken to Shepard only hours earlier, about nothing of any real consequence. Now he was pushing his way through the crowds in C-Sec. Reporters, onlookers, family and friends, medical personnel and officers created a mass of flesh between him and the dock entrance. Recognizing the guard at the elevator, he gave him a wave. It took him a moment, but as soon as the officer caught sight of him, he nodded and waved Garrus over._

_Clawing his way through the swelling mass of people, he had to lean in close to his co-worker to hear him speak. "The MSV Ulysses picked up the escape pods," the distracted turian was yelling over the shouts of the crowd. "It is total chaos back there... the Ulysses didn't have the facilities to treat the wounded, so the dock is a damn triage mess, complicated with Ulysses' crew, alliance officials and traumatized survivors."_

_Garrus felt his anxiety rise as the security officer helped him slip through the door. A few tense moments in the elevator and he was suddenly faced with the scene at the space dock._

_The already cramped space was filled with a sea of people. Diving into the chaos, he searched for familiar faces... anyone who could tell him what had happened. Out of the jumble of voices, disturbing snippets of information reached his ears. "I don't think she made it...", "Joker is hysterical...", "I just can't believe it..." He was sifting through the masses of humans, the smells polluting his senses. The salty, strong tang of human sweat and fear mixed with the metallic stench of charred wires and melted polymers stung his nostrils._

_Where was her scent? Why couldn't he find her?_

_"Garrus!" Liara's voice carried over the milieu and Garrus found her blue face easily in the sea of earthy hues. He could read the bad news in her expression and he was sure his heart was imploding. Pushing his way towards her, the desperation in his movements caused him to bump against people in his path._

_"Where...?" The question wasn't even out of his mouth before she was shaking her head at him, her hands coming up to embrace him. His arms hung limply at his sides in confusion._

_"I'm sorry Garrus, she didn't make it." Liara pulled back, her hands still holding his upper arm. His mandibles were tight against his face, his whole body held rigid. "She went back for Joker...got him to an escape pod," Liara explained gently, but Garrus was already stepping away from her._

_"No... no, no, no," his eyes were looking past the asari, searching the crowd. She had to be wrong._

_Liara caught his wandering attention, her eyes were tearing up. "There was an explosion before she could get into the escape pod and it knocked her into space. By the time help arrived..." As she tried to blink away the tears he pulled his arms out of her gasp. "Garrus, wait!" she pleaded, but her voice fell on deaf ears as he disappeared back into the mob._

_The turian's mind was numb with anger and complete disbelief. This was Shepard... she didn't just die. She couldn't._

_As he stumbled blindly through the crowd he spotted Kaidan sitting with Tali. Neither one saw Garrus storming towards them. The biotic's head was in his hands and the quarian seemed to be perpetually running her clenched fists along her thighs._

_"What were you doing?" His voice flanged heavily with anger as he stood over the crouched human. Tali gave Garrus what must have been a sympathetic look before glancing over at the lieutenant. Kaidan raised his swollen eyes and shook his head._

_"What are you talking-"_

_Garrus grabbed the limp human by the arms, pulling him to his feet and giving him a rough shake. "What the hell were you doing?" he asked again, and Kaidan went on the defensive, hands coming up to the turian's chest and pushing him away. An accusing taloned finger came up between them. "Where were you? How could you have let this happen?"_

_"The ship was burning up! She ordered me into the escape pod!_

"_Some orders you don't follow," Garrus growled._

"_Fuck you Vakarian! You weren't even there!" The lieutenant yelled as a blue biotic glow appeared along his arms... and then just as suddenly disappeared as a shaky breath rushed out of his lungs. Kaidan seemed to deflate, his anger bleeding out of him. "The Commander knew the risks... she knew!" His arms came up in defeat. "I... couldn't save her."_

_'You couldn't protect your mate!' Garrus' mind yelled through the noise of his heart pounding in his head. _

_There was no use unleashing his rage on the biotic. It was obvious in how his entire body already sagged with exhaustion that his final moments on board the Normandy were probably replaying like mind numbing elevator music over and over in his head. And it was clear he wasn't getting off the lift anytime soon._

_Garrus' talons dug into the palms of his clenched hands as he held back the irrational violence that was filling his thoughts. Looking down at the miserable lieutenant, he bit out his next words."Shepard was a protector. She watched everyone's back - but apparently there was NO ONE watching hers."_

"_Garrus –" Tali began to protest, rising from her seat, but he was already turning away in disgust. Through the weaving figures he caught sight of Joker yelling at some nameless trauma councillor. He still couldn't believe this was actually happening. His desperation was taking him closer to the pilot. Seeing the disparaging look on the pilot's face, Garrus felt his desire to break things and yell at people begin to ebb._

_Joker's head was in his hands, his arms shaking, "I couldn't reach her, she pushed that god damn button and I couldn't reach her. God dammit! The galaxy needs her, not me! They need a saviour, not a cripple. She shouldn't have come for me..."_

_That was the moment Garrus felt it. Never could he have imagined how such a terrible emptiness could feel so unbearably heavy. He wasn't going to find her here. A sickening feeling settled deep within him, and the turian barely felt he had the energy to stand. He turned away from the devastated pilot without a word and headed for the exit without speaking to anyone else._

_The walk back to his office was a dull blur as he carried his burden for the first of many days and nights._

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"Enter" Her voice came through the comm and he took a hesitant step into the dark blue glow of her quarters. He supposed for the sake of efficiency it made sense that her office would be in her sleeping quarters, although it seemed to him a little too much like mixing business with pleasure.

Pleasure, the word repeated in his head.

His eyes closed for the briefest of moments. The sweet smell of her was overwhelming in this room. As he breathed in deeply, all his old memories of her, real and imagined, were being rewritten as the fresh aroma assaulted his senses. Looking down at where she was seated at her desk, he watched as she finished up a report or some other menial bit of bureaucratic record keeping.

It was impossible not to catalogue each small movement - the slight rise and fall of her shoulders, the almost imperceptible rustle of golden strands that framed her face, the way her bottom lip slid between her strange, square white teeth as she concentrated on her work. He appreciated each one like the fluid brushstrokes in a classic masterpiece.

What the hell had happened to him all those months ago?

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_Wrex was standing to his left. The red glaze on the metal of his battered family armour shone dully in the artificial light of the presidium. Garrus looked down at the gauntlets of his own family's clan armour, the parallel blue lines and angles danced up the dark grey metal. Both of them were dressed, not for battle, but for ceremony._

_The krogan's jaw was clenched; pieces of his armour rubbing as he shifted his weight. Garrus' eyes saw no one in particular as he gazed across the motionless waves in the sea of faces seated in rows before him. The voice of the Alliance speaker sounded lost in the great hollowness of the presidium, his words seeming empty and meaningless in the bright artificial light. Widening his stance and swallowing, he felt himself sway as he tried to fight the reoccurring feeling of falling that had been hounding him for days._

_Four chairs sat empty near the front. He wasn't sure if Shepard even had any distant relatives to fill them. She should have been buried on Mindoir, he thought to himself, but she had earned a Spectre's rites. _

_Again he looked over at the expensive wooden coffin. The Alliance flag was draped over the empty box; in front, a mass of earth flowers and a photo of his late Commander. Those flowers; large and white, with such a strong scent. He knew if he ever encountered the odour again he would be instantly smuggled back to this very moment._

_It was difficult to contain the almost overwhelming desire to tear away the flag, knock off the lid and declare that Shepard couldn't be dead because the coffin was empty. Surely this obvious fact would cause everyone to stand up in agreement and for her to step out onto the stage and explain where she had been._

_But his feet remained cemented to the floor._

_The sea before him was moving now, but Garrus and Wrex remained. It had been decided that the coffin would be on display for the remainder of the day, as there were too many people who had requested a chance to pay their respects. The two of them had volunteered to stand guard for as long as was necessary. There was something terribly dark about guarding an empty coffin._

_Through the fog in his mind, the turian became aware of the tedious approach of the Normandy's pilot. Step after agonizing step finally brought the cane weilding human within reach of the empty coffin.  
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_"Garrus..." Joker looked as though a stiff breeze would blow him over, his one arm in a sling as he leaned heavily on a cane with the other. "This is my fault," he rasped, his eyes red, the dark circles underneath confessing more than he probably wanted about his guilt ridden days and sleepless nights. "She traded her life for mine... and it wasn't a fair trade."_

_Garrus' voice escaped him and he found he could only stare back at the fragile human, his eyes haunted and broken. Tali had quietly approached from behind and placed a gentle hand on the pilot's shoulder, but Joker held the turian's gaze. "It should have been me," he whispered before allowing the quarian to guide him away from the coffin and towards the exit._

_So many things that had gone unsaid. So many wasted moments. How would he ever get them back?_


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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The first thing that struck him was her fighting style, which had changed noticeably from what he remembered. Shepard seemed impatient, hurling herself out from behind the safety of crates and walls, and charging at enemies cowering behind cover. The husks on Horizon were no different. She had fallen into a confident routine of popping a few rounds of cryo ammo into the mindless bastards before shattering them with an elbow and an angry yell.

It was impressive to watch, but it worried him. He couldn't recall her being so aggressive two years ago.

Garrus gave a sideways glance at Grunt, who was so focused on Shepard's back he kept stumbling. They were both huffing as they rushed through the human colony with guns blazing, the tank bred wide eyed with excitement at his first taste of blood.

Shepard had set one hell of an intense pace.

Digging in behind a low wall, their heavy breaths joined the clink and hiss of expelling and reloading heat sinks as they prepared for another wave of collectors. Danger and a head full of adrenaline, he should have been focused entirely on the mission. But looking up, Shepard's green eyes made Garrus momentarily forget the imminent fire fight. There was something more than just urgency there; a fierce intensity that both worried and excited him.

"Shepard...?" His voice was a breathless, unformed question. It was as far as he got - gun fire breaking out again and they ducked their heads down.

It was clear she had heard him as she glanced at him distractedly, her eyes reflecting a unfamiliar desperation before she leapt over the barricade they were lodged behind. Without any fear or hesitation she faced her enemies head on, raining down upon them a sea of bullets. Following her push forward, he dutifully showered their enemies with cover fire.

This was unnecessary insanity, and if it didn't stop, someone was going to get themselves killed. He had put off talking to her for long enough.

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__Shepard had died in battle, the way she would have wanted to go. It was an honourable death, at least that's what he told himself over and over. Like the electrical storms that chased up the coast near his Palaven home, thoughts of her were keeping him awake every night. Her shallow, desperate gasps for air waking him like the booms of thunder that as a child had sent him shivering to his mother's arms.__

__The faces of a thousand people walking past that empty coffin kept appearing in his dreams. A creeping serpent of lives, deeds, promises and tears. The whole galaxy was for the worse without her and he was finding it impossible to accept it and move on.__

__C-Sec had offered him time off, but he had insisted on getting back to work. Distraction - maybe that would help. He refused to dishonour Shepard's memory by wallowing in mourning and becoming an unproductive member of society. Unfortunately the work day would eventually end, usually not by his own choice, and as he walked the familiar steps up to his quarters, the restlessness and agitation would set in. Sleep escaped him most nights and his thoughts were slowly trapping him in endless scenarios of a doomed galaxy. He had been robbed... the whole galaxy had been robbed. What were they going to do against the reapers if Shepard was gone? She hadn't died gloriously, had she? Hadn't died fighting any battle, she died fighting for air. __

__Wrex had said it was better than fleeing in an escape pod, but that was of little comfort.  
><em>_

__Days went by and Garrus worked hard at his job, keeping to the hard-line ethics she had instilled in him. Keeping himself busy would numb the hours, blurring the danger that loomed on the horizon. When the ward lights dimmed after another shift of mind numbing distraction, he often found himself at his bedroom window. He stood motionless, shrouded in the calm darkness of his quarters, the soft lights of the ward casting an eerie glow around him. The turian's sharp blue eyes were unfocused and partially closed. __

__Alone with his memories, he felt himself relax, the evening commotion and chatter in the corridors fading away, heralding the arrival of her echo. __

__He waited patiently for the silence in the room to swell, the darkness creeping in along the edges of the windows and dancing in the periphery of his vision. First it was just a feeling, a soft edged shadow standing behind him, off in a dark corner of the room. He would stand so still, so certain was he that he could hear her long even breaths. The breaths of someone who's lungs and heart were strong from years of endurance building trials. __

__Then he would take a deep breath; siphoning out his own smell, the smell of metal, clothing, recycled air, food, the hallway of the ward, the pedestrian traffic, the cologne of the burly C-Sec guard down the corridor, the fish in his neighbour's quarters, day old cigarette smoke clinging to the walls of a nearby stairwell... There, beyond the banal odours of the citadel he was certain he could identify that delicate smell of her. __

__The rational turian voice in his head sounded suspiciously like his father. None of this is real. You are imagining it all. You are sick and should get help. You are obsessing over a dead human female. This is not a healthy way to mourn, Vakarian. __

__He pushed the thoughts away. He wouldn't question it. Instead, he took another deep breath through his nose, letting it fill his lungs and then - she would be there, alive, behind him.__

__As long as he didn't turn around. __

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"What can I do for you Garrus?" Her voice was smooth and lilting like so many humans he had met, but hers sang to him in an unfathomable way with its highs, lows and subtle inflections. Just as she always had, Shepard knew it was him without looking up. It had always struck him as odd, since he knew humans had fairly poor senses of smell compared to turians and krogans.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked curiously, forcing the nonchalant tone in his voice, hoping to mask the nervousness he always had when with her in private.

After a short time Shepard finally looked up at him and smiled, unfazed by his intense gaze. Setting the datapad down, she pulled her neck to the side with an audible crack, then shrugged. "You are the owner of the only turian legs on the ship, Garrus. The sound of your walk gives you away." A slight smile crept across her lips as she paused, regarding him expectantly. Her strange eyes, the deep green so foreign to his species, yet so familiar to him, looked straight through him.

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__It was impossible for Garrus to know how much time had passed since the funeral. The days were beginning to feel more and more like the terrible drama vids on Citadel prime time - pointlessly tragic and full of empty emotional gestures. The universe had a giant hole in it and the only relief was waiting for him in the dark of his apartment.__

__Each night he returned to the window, mind empty, ears straining and nostrils flared, awaiting his ephemeral companion. He could feel her arrival in the tightening of the plates along his back and the prickling sensation along the soft underside of his arms. Deep breaths and soft scents lured him away from his shallow reality and into the tranquil sanctuary of her presence. In these moments he felt such peace. He was barely able to control the urge to turn, so convinced that he would find her standing there. But he didn't dare move, the buried, unspoken knowledge that he would find only dull shadows and lifeless furniture kept his eyes to the window.__

__Normalcy, he had told himself in the beginning. Their conversations began professionally as always. He would begin to discuss his cases, filling her in on all the details and asking questions about suspects or sometimes just complaining about the agony of bureaucracy. He would ponder her silent answers and come up with other possibilities and alternatives. It was always productive in the beginning. Then he would begin to reminisce about missions, planets, cursing her jovially about continually giving him work to do on the mako after their trips planet side. __

__These nightly rituals made the days tolerable. It had seemed harmless at first - just a way to keep her memory alive. Each day ti became easier to avoid the difficult questions; Why did he spent his nights with his dead Commander, resurrecting her spectre each night in his bedroom? In the back of his mind he could hear his father's lecture -'_Why wear our colours for this woman, Garrus? Why morn her like she was yours? She wasn't part of our family._' __

__As time passed he began to look forward to his evening conversations. Apparently the change in him was noticeable because his co workers started to ask questions. He was becoming more withdrawn; he refused invitations for drinks and nights out, wouldn't accept any sparring requests, and refused all advances from women____…____ and men. And as they had said to him bluntly one morning, he looked like hell. What would they say if they knew he spent his evenings having one sided conversations with his dead Commanding officer, a human female for that matter?__

__It was only a matter of time before it came to a head.  
><em>_

__"Vakarian, take the next three days to get yourself straightened out, you look like hell." Pallin had said as he waved away the turian in front of him.__

__"Sir..."__

__"No, I don't want to hear it. You may be doing your work, exceptionally well I might add, but you're clearly unwell - have you looked at yourself lately? People are going to start asking what kind of officers we have working at C-Sec." Pallin paused, appraising the dishevelled turian in front of him "I am sure the loss of Commander Shepard and the Normandy hasn't been easy. But if you can't get yourself sorted out I will have to bring someone in to set you straight. If that doesn't work I am prepared to take more permanent action. I don't want to have to explain that to your father."__

__"Yes Sir," Garrus nodded numbly and wandered home. __

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Inside the captain's cabin, the only turian aboard the Normandy shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. He felt like a Cerberus spy, and it disgusted him. Telling himself he was doing this for her and not Cerberus, really wasn't much of a consolation. But Miranda had been right in a way. Shepard had seemed unpredictable and reckless on the battlefield, white on the ship she appeared to be running on autopilot. Everyone was being kept busy, including him. Upgrading the main gun was a big job, but in his off hours, when he wander the decks looking to run into her accidentally, he could not find her - which was quite the feat since the Normandy really wasn't that big.

Preparations for their inevitable run in with the Collectors were demanding on the entire crew, so it was understandable that people were a little stressed out. Still, it didn't quiet explain what was so off about their whole dynamic. He and Shepard, they used to work so flawlessly together. There was still lots to do - the list of team members to recruit was long. Maybe this was as good a time as any to take a step back and drag out the tattered remains of their psyches.

His gaze came back from somewhere in the distance to look into her eyes. Patiently Shepard had been waiting for him to speak, and he reminded himself how lucky he was that she was going to be there to listen.

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__When shop talk didn't appeal to him, and he had grown tired of being the only one laughing at the good times they'd shared, he had begun to tell her stories; Of his childhood on Palaven, training in the turian military and random bits of family dramas. His voice rose and fell with his soft words, as if speaking to an old friend who had heard the stories dozens of times before, but who had no problem hearing them again. Gradually, when the stories evaporated and the corridors grew eerily quiet, he would sometimes speak to her of dreams...__

__Tonight the silence dragged on. This night the turian statue could find no ideas or stories that seemed worth telling. __

__"I miss you" he whispered to the room, his mandibles pressed to his face. The darkness over his shoulder regarded him quietly. "Am I honouring your memory?"__

__Murky edges of shadows shifted behind him and he reluctantly sat down in the chair that faced the window. He was just far enough from the window that the gloom could wrap him in its dark embrace. This was the place he usually found himself when he awoke in the morning. __

__"Shepard." Her name was a soft, flanged plea. He brought his palms to his eyes and dropped his head, letting out a terrible moan. "Why can't I let you go?"__

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She was still watching him. This wasn't the first time he had been standing speechless in her quarters.

"I..." Garrus' words dried up in his throat, he was so captivated by her gaze. It had never been difficult to talk to her before; not alongside the mako on the old Normandy, or even in the darkness after her death. But now, with this new Shepard, he lost his voice whenever she caught him alone. He squirmed under the focus of her sublime intensity. Part of him demanded he grab her hands, press himself up against her, bury his face against the curve of her shoulder and listen to her heart beat next to his ear, her breath tickling the skin of his neck. He snapped alert when his predatory eyes caught movement as she rose from her chair.

This was wrong; he had to remember that for Shepard it hadn't been so long. For her it would seem as though she had been on the SR1 only weeks earlier. Their personal history was one of casual conversations and friendly chatter. There was a two year gap in their relationship that he had been filling with deep conversations and confessions - all of which she'd never heard. She didn't know him as well as he was assuming. He tried to think about what their relationship had been like when they had parted ways that last time on the Citadel. But he couldn't... in her absence he had romanticized the memory of this woman... his Commander, mentor, friend, the only thing that filled the void inside of him.

"Garrus, let's go get a drink." Her voice was light and casual as she walked past him.

"Right now?" he asked, bewildered, as he followed her with his eyes. She paused at the door.

"Sure, unless you're busy... calibrating something... we can do it another time. I've been meaning to talk to you..." She put her hand up against the door frame and her head tilted just slightly. "Besides, I could use a drink. We're on Illium for at least another day while we wait for those upgrades to be delivered". Their casual banter so easily crushed the dark mood he had been nursing. How could he refuse her?

"Are you asking me out Commander?" he joked, feeling easy again, just like old times. "Because you should know I'm not a cheap date."

She barked out a laugh, "I'd be disappointed if you were."

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__Bright lights and commotion dragged him to the surface of consciousness and he blinked hard. Asleep for an hour, maybe two? The citadel news came on as the pre-programmed unit registered his conscious state. It was white noise to his cloudy mind until he heard a familiar name.__

__"...of Commander Shepard. The council has declared her claims false. Stress and combat injuries are believed to be the cause of her perpetuating the myth of the race known as the reapers. Experts say that the saviour of the Citadel was delusional and most likely suffering from a wide variety of mental conditions..."__

__Mental conditions? False claims?__

__Blinding anger ripped Garrus from his chair and sent him storming out of his quarters. How dare they smear her name with their ignorance! Intent on raging against whoever was making these claims, his fury took him to Councillor Anderson's office. The C-Sec agent guarding the door, though he recognized Garrus as a superior, suspected his intentions. He, along with Anderson's secretary, had refused to let him in. The Normandy's former captain appeared just before the situation escalated. With little explaination, he led the turian into the privacy of his new office. The older man had spoken calmly and rationally, but it had been of little consolation. Looking back on it afterwards Garrus had to admit he must have been quite the sight - dishevelled clothes, wild eyes, pacing, teeth bared, talons waving in the air as his fury boiled out of him in low growls. __

__Empty placation____'____s and hollow reassurances meant nothing to him. He'd heard enough from this human, so he made to leave. The council was full of fools his mind screamed.__

__"Garrus," Anderson called out, stopping the turian abruptly at the door. "There is nothing left of Commander Shepard except her deeds and our memories". Anderson sighed, "and, well, the contents of her locker in the barracks, which I seem unable to let staff empty and unable to clean out myself. We just have to accept that she's gone and try to remember the time we had with her." __

__"It's not enough," Garrus murmured in defeat and left. __

__When he emerged back into the presidium, his eyes looking up at the workers still rebuilding and repairing the damage. His anger had turned to nothingness - just and empty hole in the centre of his being. This place had turned its back on Shepard... she had fought for them and they would not even honour her memory or listen to her warnings. The Citadel was mocking them both. Wandering past the entrance to the C-Sec offices, Garrus still felt numb inside. He couldn't go back. He couldn't serve these people while such a terrible threat loomed over them. He couldn't watch them grind their heels into the memory of his Commander... his friend...__

__It was a little less than two hours before he was on the first transport out.__

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Illium was bustling. Together they wove through the pedestrian traffic. Their conversation had been casual - about upgrades, ship status, and dossiers of team members yet to be found and recruited. Without any effort at all, she had taken him back in time two years with her perfunctory words and walk. It was so easy to pretend.

Leading him into a quiet corner in Eternity, they slid into a booth with satisfied smirks. Taking the initiative, he waved over the asari waitress and ordered drinks for them both.

"I'm not surprised that you know what I drink, but then I remind myself it's been two years since we sat down like this, so I really should be." Shepard was shaking her head incredulously and Garrus found himself hypnotized by the way her hair clumped and swayed as it followed her movements.

__Come on Vakarian, now is not the time. You do not have a human fetish.__

"Look, Commander..." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the sound of her title, "Miranda asked me to talk to you." The words were coming out faster as she cautiously lowered the glass from her lips, her expression darkening. "But that's not why I'm here. She wanted me to talk to you because she and the crew are worried about how you are doing-"

"You mean Cerberus wants to know how their investment is doing-"

"-I- want to know you're ok." His statement had come out angrier than he'd meant it to and he dropped his head. "Miranda told me about how they woke you early, that you had to fight for the first hours of your... resurrection." His flanging voice had dropped, "I'm asking you to talk to me about it. Not for Cerberus, or anyone else - but for you. I am offering my ear... well the one I have left."

Her face softened as she acknowledged his attempt to lighten the conversation, even though it sounded so completely out of place. The muscles of her shoulders relaxed as she seemed to accept his explanation.

"I saw you at my funeral." She said it casually after taking a reasonable swallow of her drink.

"You what?" Garrus coughed out the words in surprise, the alcohol burning his throat as it slid down the wrong way.

Shepard looked mildly amused as she nodded, "It's a strange thing, watching one's own funeral. I looked up the vid a few nights ago." Leaning back against the seat, her expression turned thoughtful, distant. Her eyes looked past him as she spoke; "All those people, the speeches, the clichéd descriptions of who I am... or well, was." Shaking her head, a light huff of a laugh escaped her lips before her eyes returned to him. "Everyone looked bored."

Garrus waited for her to continue, secretly hoping she wouldn't. He'd relived those memories far too many times before.

"I noticed you and Wrex stood guard."

"Yes," he responded solemnly, hoping his expression conveyed his desire not to elaborate.

"I liked that armour you were wearing. You looked rather handsome." A small smile touched her lips as her eyebrows leapt towards her hairline. Handsome? Garrus found himself amazed at how she was taking this dark conversation and turning it into just another casual chat between old friends - and he was glad to pretend that's all it really was.

"Don't look so shocked." She smiled openly at him now and it struck him how trained he was to respond to that very un-turian facial expression. "I recognized Wrex's family armour, is that similar to what you were wearing?"

He nodded distractedly, his words slow, his mind too entranced with its own train of thought."Ceremonial armour. We wear for certain occasions uhh..." he cleared his throat awkwardly, unsure of her reaction to his next words, "...like when someone dies in battle..."

"Someone like...?" she prodded and he grimaced awkwardly into his drink.

"Like a leader or... family."

She seemed to be considering this as she nodded and frowned simultaneously. Conflicting facial expressions were something Garrus had learned to expect with the animated faces of humans.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, before tipping her glass to her lips and finishing her drink. The glass came down a little harder than she must have intended as she flinched at the sound of it hitting the table. Quickly, she motioned to the waitress and with a wave of her hand in a circle between them she had given the galactic hand sign for another round.

Garrus wasn't really sure what to expect. He didn't have a lot of experience with humans when it came to discussing emotional matters. He was silently thankful for the alcohol they were consuming.

"You have no reason to apologize, Shepard," he offered, but she was shaking her head with more emphasis now.

"Please, let me say it. I know it's unreasonable for me to try and control the past... and the fact that I got spaced. But I still feel like I abandoned everyone, let them down." She dropped her head, regarding her hands as they cradled her fresh drink. "Everyone has changed, even you," she added, eyes returning to his as she looked at him, hard. "I'm feeling out of place... even now, it seems as if everyone in this bar is watching us. There is a dead spectre wandering around and everyone is wondering why." Shepard's head tilted a little to the side and she let out a long breath. "What happened after I died?" She asked quietly.

Garrus glanced around the club casually. She was right. People were watching them, and he'd been so focused on her he hadn't even noticed. "I thought you were going to be doing the talking," he said as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his voice trailing off as she shrugged.

"What do you want me to tell you Garrus? That I was dead? That I have this weird memory of lying on my back in agony on a cold slab, looking up at a blurry grey, dead looking hand... which I suddenly realize is my own?"

They were walking a fine line here, and the last thing he wanted to do was push her. The best thing, he decided, was to stay quiet. As she spoke, Garrus noted her face looked calmer than it should. He knew she was working hard to keep her voice level.

"You already know about our escape... those hours... people telling me I had been dead, trying to come to terms with the fact that I had lost two years of my life while fighting to stay alive. But all I could think about was you," she paused, "Tali, Wrex, Liara..." she paused again, "Kaidan... I had no idea what had happened to anyone. My last memories were... well..." She shook her head, "seeing flaming pieces of the Normandy accompany me into the atmosphere of Alchera."

Garrus frowned. At the mention of her ex-lieutenant's name, he found himself thinking again about the exchange on Horizon days earlier. That encounter had been a rude awakening for everyone about the grey area that occupied between protectors of the galaxy and paid mercenaries working for a terrorist organization.

Shepard had already finished her drink and was beckoning for another. Garrus diligently kept up by draining his own glass before the next round arrived.

"Some days I feel like some kind of Frankenstein creation..."

"Frankenstein," he repeated, his words coming out as a statement, though she knew he was waiting for the footnotes.

"An earth story written a few hundred years ago where a man is built from the body parts of the dead. He is brought to life by a mad scientist in a lab using shocks from bolts of lightning." A smile began to creep along her lips, "Something like that anyway. I guess I should be grateful that they used my body parts and didn't use whatever spare parts they had laying around." As quickly as it appeared, the smile faded, "Sometimes I feel like part of me is still dead inside... Like I'm constantly waiting for lightening to strike and wake me up... to remind me that I'm alive." Her countenance turned incredulous. "God damn, who am I?" she asked with a wry laugh.

"Well, for someone who fell from orbit like a stone onto a frozen planet, Cerberus did a hell of a job putting you back together," Garrus offered. He had been studying her face again, this time he chose not to hide it. "You look just like you did the last time I saw you... well, except for a few scars and the darkness beneath your eyes."

"Flattering," she said over the rim of her glass. Her voice wasn't angry, but he gathered that his comment was maybe akin to her telling him his fringe was looking dull and crooked. "How have you been sleeping?"

Her question took him by surprise. "Better now."

"It's good to hear. I was worried..." he words trailed off.

"You?"

"I haven't been sleeping much," she replied quietly, looking away from his penetrating gaze and into her drink. "Nightmares... it seems silly, I know. None of that prothean crap, thankfully." She shook her head at the memories of so many other sleepless nights, years before. "I wake up gasping for air sometimes. I can feel the pressure of the gas dropping as it slips under my fingertips and through the holes in my suit." Her eyes had turned glassy and she jerked a little as his warm hand came to rest on hers. He hoped his gesture was appropriate.

"That's not silly, Shepard." The juxtaposition was not lost on him. As he had been unable to rest while she had endured her dreamless coma, so it was now that he was finally starting to sleep again while she lay awake at night, tortured by the very same thing - her death.

"The value of life seems even greater to me now, only... I can't stop wondering..." she continued thoughtfully, "about all that time I was gone. I always told myself that there was nothing after death, and I had accepted that. But being faced with the hard fact that there really is nothing after we die? It all just ends? I suppose part of me didn't want to believe that everything we are is locked up in this cage of flesh and bone. Seems like such a waste..."

Garrus thought back to all those nights, alone, talking to the darkness, to the late night visit he had missed. "I don't know if it's that simple, Shepard."

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__He was drunk. He had staggered back to the compound with his three comrades through the darkness and grime. Together they had destroyed a huge shipment of red sand and had headed to Afterlife to celebrate. Drinks and dancers had been on the menu, but he was still unable to fully join in with his teammates in their festivities. He had tried to put on as much of a show as he could, but his heart just wasn____'____t in it. When he reached his room he shuffled in, leaving the lights off he waited for the voices of his teammates to cease. When the compound was finally silent, he took a few uncertain steps to the box on the floor beside the window. Opening the lid, he stepped back and closed his eyes. The aroma assailed him and he let out a choked breath, slipping into his now routine meditative state. __

__"My team is getting stronger." His voice sounded dreamy as he addressed the emptiness, the alcohol softening the consonants in his words. "I thought you would approve of my choices... Butler is excellent with a shotgun and Sidonis can always be counted on for information from his contacts..."__

__The darkness seemed to sigh around him and he took another deep breath.__

__"But I'm not doing it right, am I?" The breath whistled as it escaped through his clenched teeth "I talk to you when I'm awake. Why do you pursue me when I try to sleep?"__

__Another deep breath. __

__"I can't save you," he admitted reluctantly. The blackness seemed to press further against him, crowding around him with its ephemeral fingers. "I can't save you... please stop reaching for me." His eyes closed tightly and he slammed his fist against the wall beside the window. "I wasn't there!" his voice cracked, the sound of it and the deep echo in the wall destroying the fragile atmosphere in the room. Kicking the box closed, he turned and fell back into his cold bed. __

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"Look Garrus," she was moving her glass lightly, the liquid swirling around in an endless vortex to the tune of her hand. Humans had such dexterous fingers. Nimble and strong, they seemed to dance of their own accord. They betrayed their owners on so many levels, saying so much when not a word had been spoken. Shepard's fingers were long with short nails, the tendons flexing responsively as she moved them about in idle motions. When they paused he was already expecting her voice. "I'm really glad you're here. Not just on this mission, but here right now, talking to me. I wouldn't be managing any of this without you. You've always been a good friend."

Garrus took a long drink. "You are the whole reason I'm here, Shepard. I would have been minced turian surprise served on a platter if you hadn't come charging in back on Omega." He tried to make it sound light, but the words still carried a terrible reminder. When she had found him there, her eyes said she knew he was there waiting for death. Thankfully she didn't call him on it. "I should have been there with you... on the old Normandy. I often wonder if things would have been different had I been there during the attack."

She extracted her hand from his to give him a dismissive wave. "Don't dwell on it, Garrus. You know I would have ordered you into the pods with the others."

He missed her touch immediately.

"Perhaps," the turian considered it for a moment, "but we both know I've not always been the best at following orders I disagree with."

She smiled a little at that. "I guess we'll never know."

"In any case, the galaxy is pretty damn lucky it's got you back, and the people that really know you should welcome your return." He stopped, suddenly realizing his misstep, but Shepard was already shaking her head in dismissal at his predictable apology.

"Kaidan was understandably hurt. It was upsetting to hear a former member of my crew call me a traitor, but I have to keep reminding myself that years went by. People moved on." She shrugged, looking at her empty glass. "I'm kind of glad it's behind me. I'm sure you heard rumours about us. It was that suicide mission to Illos. Nerves I guess, but apparently it meant a lot more to him than I realized."

Garrus had known, hell, the whole crew had known, but hearing it from her lips caused his talons to curl. That irrational anger he had once felt boiled up again and he saw himself grabbing that punk by his uniform and -

"Garrus... Garrus?"

__She's talking to me, shit... what?__

She had a look of both worry and amusement on her face. "Were you just... growling?"

"What, no... sorry..." he mumbled as he finished his own drink. "Look, Alenko was confused. Two years is a long time." He said this diplomatically, but in his mind he filleted the human male and hung his corpse up for the scavengers.

There were two fresh drinks in front of them and he grabbed his without questioning it. Shepard sipped the auburn liquid in her glass thoughtfully. "Maybe..." she muttered. "It's still unnerving - trying to do the right thing and then having to hear you are a traitor. It is a terrible feeling. Well-" she set down her drink and gave a rye laugh "maybe not as bad as the feeling of being spaced, but pretty close!"

She was actually laughing about it, and he couldn't help it, but he was chuckling with her. It must be the alcohol he told himself, because these were all serious topics, weren't they?

They laughed for a while, their conversation shifting to other crew members; Miranda's choice in attire, Mordin's chatter, war stories and old times. After another round of drinks they were getting loud enough that people began to notice.

"And then you jumped out with your rifle up and everyone froze... and what did you say?"

"smells like a varren puked in a dead vorcha..." he chuckled sheepishly into his glass, filling in the line to the story.

"Yes! That's it!" Shepard was laughing between sentences, while Garrus tried and failed to keep his own laughter to a respectable level.

"Spirits, that smell was awful!" He recalled, making a few fake gagging sounds.

"You just looked at me with this big question mark on your face... and then one of the salarians looked at the floor and apologized." She set her glass down while her other hand waved around emphatically. "And then they all started apologizing!"

"I couldn't believe you made us question them after we'd literally scared the shit out of them," he rolled his head in mock exasperation.

Shepard was getting her laughter under control as she wiped at the tears in her eyes. She glanced at her wet finger tips, and then back to Garrus. He was still chuckling but had cocked his head to the side, "Why are you crying?"

"Laughing... when I laugh really hard it makes my eyes water. Yawning does the same thing." She was still smiling and he was flaring his mandibles back at her in the equivalent.

"Doubt they all had a change of clothes at work," Garrus' added, his voice light with amusement.

"Yeah..." Shepard's laugh turned into a sigh, "speaking of which, the strangest thing - When I was speaking with Anderson, I asked him about the things I left on the Citadel, and he tells me that someone broke into my locker after I died and took all my stuff." She was laughing about it until she noticed the guilty look that he was sure was painted all over his face. "They probably wanted to sell it as morbid souvenirs or mementos... or something..." her voice trailed off.

"It was me," Garrus blurted out quickly, before taking another drink.

"You- wait, what?" Shepard was still laughing lightly, despite the confused look that was slowly taking over her face, "you broke into my Alliance locker, took all my stuff... and what? Sold it?"

"No, I just... took it. I'm sorry..."

Her hands came up in a dramatic gesture, "Jesus Garrus, I'm not angry. I was dead. What was I going to do with a bunch of clothes and whatever else was in there." She snickered at him, but he remained serious. Her smile began to fade and she could tell she'd stirred up something. "What is it? What's wrong?"

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__"Hey Archangel, what the hell are you doing in there at night? Sensat says he hears you talking to yourself."__

__"None of your business. Do we have any more information on that weapons shipment the Blue Suns are expected?"__

__"Erash says it's your mate you're talking to. You got some hot turian female off world you're not telling us about?"__

__The light-hearted bickering ended suddenly as the human found himself slammed against a nearby bulkhead. The fist clenching the front of his shirt flexing as Archangel growled deep in his throat. "My private life is my own." __

__"Ok! ok! Sorry Archie. No offence intended," the human spluttered before the turian dropped him and turned to the shocked members of his team.__

__"Weapons shipment," he continued, his voice once again calm and professional. It was enough to stir them into action and they began discussing logistics and strategy as if nothing had happened. The longer they worked together, the more his team pressed against the walls that protected them from who he was. He couldn't be Garrus Vakarian anymore - at least not to anyone else but his ethereal companion.  
><em>_

__That evening, in the dark solitude of his room, Garrus gave a wary look at the box by the window. He had been unwilling to handle its contents since the day he placed them in that box. Opening the lid had always been enough of a transgression. Now the scents were aging, becoming more delicate, and he wouldn't touch them for fear of contamination.__

__"They call you my mate," he murmured to the empty room. "I've been told I'm devoted to justice, married to this cause that I spend every day pursuing. But maybe it has never really been that way." He sighed sadly at the darkness. "Maybe it has always just been you." There was something off about the silence that night. It felt hollow and empty. A sudden panic sent him reaching into the box, pulling out a bunched mass of clothing. He stared at it cradled in his talons before pressing his face into the cool fabric. A deep breath, then another. Her smell was changing; stale, damp... the clothing was becoming cold and dead. __

__Elsewhere in the compound, eyes snapped open in the dorm at the sound of the angry roar that erupted from Archangel's room, the end of it turning into the terrible, agonizing moan of wounded animal. The eyes knew better than to question it.__

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"It had been all over the news - That you were delusional about the existence of the reapers. I... couldn't listen to it. Everyone was turning their back on you and I couldn't stand to be around it." Garrus' talons clinked against his glass in a display of subconscious agitation. "Anderson told me that he hadn't yet cleaned out your locker in the barracks."

She nodded at him receptively, so he continued. "Your locker was covered in notes, pictures, all kinds of things... someone had attached some red earth flower to your lock." He looked into his glass as if into a crystal ball, recalling days that now seemed so far removed to him that he imagined them from another lifetime. "It was like desecrating a shrine... breaking into your tomb. The flower had dried and it crumbled into nothing when I forced the lock." Garrus rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, "I knew you had no family, but I felt that it was important that your things weren't left to the varren. Maybe it seems strange..."

"I'm not going to judge anyone for their actions while I was... missing." Shepard tried to give him a reassuring look, but her eye lids seemed heavy, the alcohol dulling her expression. "People do what they have to do when they lose someone... in their lives."

"Like drop everything and relocate to a shithole like Omega?" he answered in a sarcastic laugh that he hoped would mask his partial confession.

"Ok that, I admit, seems a little extreme to me."

"Losing you was emotionally devastating... for everyone. The vacuum that was left in your place sent everyone in different directions. I thought I could spend every day trying to change the lives of everyone around me... the way the person I lost changed my life." Her small hand slid back under his, thin fingers squeezing around his taloned digits. "But I... lost my way, got my team slaughtered... But let's not dwell on dark times."

She nodded. "You're right of course. There is a lot at stake - "

__"Commander." __

Garrus felt Shepard's hand twitch in his.

"Shit... Yes Joker?" She was trying to sit up straighter her seat.

__"Armax just confirmed that the upgrades you ordered will be delivered tomorrow at 0700."__

"Ok, thanks for the update." She slid her hand out from underneath his and ran it down her face. __Exhaustion,__ Garrus' rational mind told him. But if she had been a turian, the act would have been rather erotic - dragging the smell of him from his hands across her face. Could her human nose catch the scent of him on her skin?

__Spirits Vakarian, your Commanding officer, your FRIEND, your HUMAN friend, needs your support, not your cock. __

This seemed like a good time to make their exit, especially since his thoughts were veering dangerously off course. Garrus stood, a little unsteadily and offered Shepard his hand. She took it, her eyebrows raised. "Kinda lost track of the rounds... I suppose we shouldn't stay here all night."

She was quickly on her omni tool, and Garrus made to protest but she shushed him. "I got this. I may have been dead, but I'm willing to bet my credit account is in better shape than yours."

"Oh, and how would you know?" Garrus tried to sound offended, but she knew him too well. Her answer was wry smile and a roll of the eyes.

Lucky for them it was late and Illium was significantly quieter than it had been on their arrival. After many careful steps and only a few bursts of laughter they arrived at the space dock.

As the inner doors of the airlock slid open, Garrus pulled himself up straight and prepared to walk without the stagger that had plagued them both on their trip back to the ship. Shepard swayed beside him, and as her fingers ran through her hair he felt his hand twitch to touch it with her.

__NO__, his mind yelled in its self emulating slur. __You DO NOT make sexual advances towards Commanding Officers on board human vessels.__

"Garrus," she was whispering mischievously, "Do I look intoxicated?"

He had to stifle a laugh, "Um no Commander, well it's really not that noticeable." He grunted as she elbowed him, and then she rubbing her elbow and gave him an exaggerated, annoyed look. He shrugged innocently.

When they stepped into full view of the CIC and cockpit, they could feel the eyes on them. Joker was turned completely around in his chair, gawking openly.

"Are you guys hammered?" he asked, his jaw hanging open. Shepard instinctively straightened her uniform, but Joker wasn't buying it. "Wait wait, Garrus, touch your finger to your- wait, talon to your nose, with your eyes closed."

"I don't see why that's necessary." Garrus was pretty certain slurred speech didn't carry over the translators, but Joker was shaking his head like he wasn't fooled in the least.

"I can't believe it! Why wasn't I invited!" He waved a dismissive hand at them and turned away, "You guys get to have all the fun. All I get is this chair and EDI's big yap."

"Mr Moreau, are you suggesting that my human conversational interface is in some way oversized -" the voices faded as Garrus and Shepard made their escape towards the elevator.

"I guess I will accompany you up" Garrus mumbled. Shepard's surprised look had him back peddling as they entered the elevator. "I mean in the elevator, and then stay on the elevator back down... instead of just... waiting in the CIC..."

"Good night Garrus," Shepard said with the hint of a laugh as she stepped out onto top deck. She looked over her shoulder at him as she opened her cabin door. "And thanks again... for everything."

Nodding mutely, he watched her disappear behind the closing elevator doors.


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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Explosions rocked the bunker, sending chunks of concrete and other debris showering down and clattering to the ground around them.

"Shepard!" Garrus called out, an unmistakable note of anxiety in his voice. He was vaulting over the crate he'd been pressed behind, and was running blindly towards the dust cloud.

"Dammit Vakarian, we haven't secured the area!" Jacob protested, but his yell fell on deaf ears. The ex-Alliance soldier grunted as he followed the turian to where Shepard had disappeared moments before. Their guns were at the ready, and as they approached the opening to the bunker, a lone silhouette appeared. The charging duo hesitated as their Commander's dusty figure emerged into the light.

"That wasn't much of an explosion," Shepard muttered a little sarcastically, brushing her hands together.

Jacob noticeably relaxed, dismissing the incident off as another close call. Garrus on the other hand was livid. Without any uncertainty, he stormed up to his superior and grabbed her by the shoulders, hard. She tensed, clearly surprised, but she didn't immediately resist.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, Shepard?" He hissed, his voice sounding farther away through the comm. in her helmet.

Adrenaline was running high, but her voice was low, measured, and all business when she replied. "Get those talons off me before I have to remove them for you."

His expression was hidden behind the dark glass of his helmet, but she could hear his harsh breaths over the comm., her own quickening instinctively at his proximity. He released his grip with a jerk but remained close to her, looming over her threateningly as she spoke. "I cleared out the bunker. It was too small a space for us to all go storming in."

A gloved talon rose between them, pointing. "It was an unnecessary risk!" His voice was booming, causing the comm. to crackle. "You were being careless and you damn well know it!"

This wasn't the first time they'd exchanged strained words on a mission. On board the ship he generally seemed like the same turian she remembered, easy going and respectful, but during missions he seemed tense, hyper vigilant and on edge. Shepard glanced past the enraged, quivering turian in front of her to where Jacob was standing uneasily nearby. She motioned him away with a quick jerk of her head and he reluctantly stepped back. Turning back to Garrus, Shepard pushed past his raised talon, bringing her face close enough to his that they could see each others eyes through the tinted glass of their helmets.

"Stand down Vakarian."

She could see his shoulders heaving with each inhalation. The look in his predatory eyes made her breath catch. He must have heard it because she saw those same eyes narrow. "Your behaviour has been needlessly reckless," he continued, his voice flanging deeply and his body tensing as though expecting a fist in rebuttal.

Shepard raised her own gloved hand, mimicking his previous movement. "You don't talk to me about how I behave," she answered in clipped words, before her hand returned to her side. "I run the show here. Your objection has been noted. Now stand down."

Normally she would had left it at that - she would have stepped away from him and in so doing, ended the conversation so they could get on with their mission. But there was an odd vibe she was getting from him that was stopping her. Some long forgotten anecdote from xenology class back in her academy days was telling her that backing down now would be a sign of submission. In an argument that seemed to question her ability to lead, that didn't seem like the wisest move.

Garrus hadn't moved a muscle, so she grabbed the collar of his armour and physically pushed him back and out of her space. His balance was thrown just enough that the turian took a small step back. It was enough to break the spell, and he only hesitated briefly before angrily ejecting the heat sink from his rifle and walking past her.

Jacob closed the gap between him and Shepard with a few swift steps. "Commander -"

"Drop it Jacob. Let's finish this mission so we can get off this rock."

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"What the hell is all that racket?" Jack asked the small group of spectators as she emerged from her sub engineering lair.

They were standing along the row of windows that looked down into the main cargo hold and shuttle launch. Jacob, still in his armour, shook his head at her as he pulled off his gloves. "The Commander and Vakarian are having a yelling match."

"No shit!" Jack exclaimed as she peered out the glass windows in front of the elevator, down into the large room below. "Where? How come I can hear them but I can't see them?"

The elevators opened, and Miranda stepped into the gradually increasing crowd. "EDI said Shepard and Vakarian are having some sort of dispute?"

"Ha," Jacob motioned over his shoulder as the sound of several heavy objects hitting the ground reverberated off the glass. "If that's what you call it when Shepard rips his head off and feeds it to his ass."

"two to one odds in favour of the Commander, any takers? Double your money if you can call the method used to subdue the loser," Ken announced. The engineer was already tapping away at his omni tool. The attention of several members of the crowd turned to him, and they huddled around him, talking amongst themselves.

"I'll get in on that action," Jack added as she moved along the window, still trying to catch a glimpse of the combatants. "A hundred credits say the turian comes out on top. He seems like a sneaky bastard… so I'm guessing he'll trick her into letting her guard down and then pin her."

Jacob was shaking his head, "my hundred and fifty credits say the Commander gets him by the fringe and makes him cry uncle... or whatever the turian equivalent is."

The red-haired yeomen joined the faces peering through the glass. Kelly shook her head, "I don't think we should interfere. They've known each other long enough to sort out their differences."

"Agreed." Miranda looked around at the curious spectators and betters, "Now I think everyone has places they should be and tasks requiring their attention...?"

Grumbling the crowd exchanged disappointed glances before dispersing.

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__Moments earlier... __

The shuttle doors hissed opened and Garrus flung himself angrily out of the confined space, only to hear something wiz past his head and hit the wall behind him.

"Don't you walk away from me, turian!" Shepard called out from inside the shuttle.

The conclusion of the mission had taken place in a tense silence, which had carried on all the way back to the Normandy. That was until Garrus had murmured something under his breath about unsound tactics. Clearly Shepard had been holding back her anger until they were out of danger - danger from enemy fire away. As soon as the shuttle doors were open, Jacob decided it was a good time to make a hasty exit.

Garrus continued to walk away, taking off his helmet and tossing it to the ground. "Spirits Shepard, what the hell is your problem?" he asked over his shoulder before turning away from her again and shedding his gloves and gauntlets. He kept his back to her, facing the row of lockers, but listening to her drop pieces of her armour as she came up behind him. Suddenly a strong, ungloved hand grab him, and spun him around to face her.

"What the hell was all that macho bullshit down there? You've got a quad thinking you can question me in the middle of a mission." He had seen her angry before, but never quite like this. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shiny. Beads of sweat glistened on her brow, catching fine blonde hairs in their grasp.

"I told you I wasn't a very good turian," he mocked, his chest puffing up involuntarily. "You think I'm going to let you take foolish risks... so what, you can get a rush? Feeling alive shouldn't depend on how close you get to having your brains paint the ground."

Her face was in his now; her breath hot, her hair damp and face shimmering. Her sweet, intoxicating smell, laced with adrenaline, was overwhelming him. He had to fight hard to crush the sudden primal urge that crawled its way into his consciousness - demanding he taste, lick.

__What the hell was wrong with him?__

"What is that, why are you doing that?" He hadn't realized his eyes had closed and he had begun to growl deep in his chest. She grabbed the edge of his collar and gave him a shake. His eyes snapped open to look at her, but the growling didn't stop.

"Shepard," the singular word came out as a warning. He was losing control. This rough housing was feeling too much like foreplay for him. A taloned hand came up and grabbed the bare left arm of his opponent. The cream coloured flesh giving slightly in his grasp, like memories of warm Palaven sand between his clawed toes.

They were both staring at his hold on her arm.

"The missions are mine to command. And you will obey my orders." Her voice was changing, becoming breathier. Her pink lips parted, betraying the intended seriousness of her demand. "If I decide to take a risk-"

He pushed against her then, their armour rubbing as she held her ground. "I will not let you throw your life away."

"That is not your decision!" she howled as she pushed him back, knocking his hands free. He stumbled, bumping into a stack of supply bins, the impact sending tools and containers tumbling over nearby, the sound echoing loudly all around them. He recovered quickly and like a shot he was instantly in her face again, her body making a dull thud as he pushed her roughly into a stack of heavy shoulder high crates. Her head tilted back instinctively as he craned his neck over her, his hands pressed flat on either side of her, trapping her between his arms.

"Yes it is," he rasped before he gave into his uncontrollable impulses, burying his face against her neck, her damp hair covering his eyes. He took a deep breath and he felt her shiver against him.

"Garrus -" Her voice sounded uncertain.

Her entire body twitched as a hot blue tongue dipped inside her armour and traced a path from her collar bone to behind her ear.

"Garrus-" she said his name again, uncertainty gone. His growling intensified.

A mandible brushed against her neck, teeth skimming the edge of her ear before his deep flanging voice whispered, "Does this make you feel alive?"

Shepard responded by shoving him off her with enough force to knock him to the floor with a crash. He was momentarily stunned until he recognized the purposeful way she was strutting towards him. She unclipped her chest plate without thought and let it fall unceremoniously to the floor. Taking the cue, Garrus's excited hands were already clawing at the latches of his own armour and he fought it off as though it were ablaze. A few quick steps and Shepard was kneeling over him, lean muscular legs cradling the turian's narrow waist.

His heart was racing. __Was this really happening?__

Determined, nimble hands smoothed the fabric over his chest plates thoughtfully before she gave the garment a strong yank. The snaps holding it together popped and the shirt hung loosely in her grip. His hands had been slowly tracing a path up the sides of her thighs when he froze. She was watching him with intense eyes as she brought the bunched black fabric up to her face. Her eye lids fluttered and he felt as much as he saw the deep breath she took through her nose. She __could__ smell him. Head-spinning arousal had him trying to sit up to meet her, but she expertly shoved him back to the floor, tossing the clothing aside.

Shepard lowered her face to his now bare flesh, following her hands as she explored the interlocking pattern on his abdomen and his chest. She seemed distracted by the blue tattoos that ran down the length of him, her fingers briefly following the pattern below his collar. Numerous, strong fingers traced the edge of his cowl and dipped down to the tactile hide under his fringe. A deep moan escaped him as her cool fingers danced along the back of his head. Her face was close to his, and her hair feathering the plates of his carapace.

He gasped at the sudden, wonderfully painful sensation of sharp teeth on the side of his neck.

__She had bit him.__

Talons immediately flew up around her, trailing down over her back, catching on the material of her shirt. He had never felt so dominated, so aroused. This human... this woman... he felt like such a deviant and he loved it.

"Garrus..." She was whispering in his ear. It was making him squirm, his talons reflexively squeezing against the curve of her hip bone. "Garrus, do you really want this?" Her hands covered so much area that it was disorienting. Her fingers splayed wide as she pushed against his chest, testing the feel of his plating. They trailed lower, snaking down between them. Something soft and hot ran down the edge of his mandibles, and he growled a low moan. Agile fingers rubbed at the sensitive hide of his lower abdomen and ran suggestively along the edge of his pants.

She wanted this, wanted him. __Or did she?__ Maybe she was only looking for release.

__It doesn't matter! __His primal mind screamed. Her lips were close to his ear now, "Tell me you want this" she hissed. Was it a plea or an order? He couldn't tell.

"Yes," he growled, "spirits, yes." One of his talons caught a tear in the back of her shirt and shredded the fabric open. He dragged his claws down her bare flesh and she arched her back, bringing up her head and closing her eyes at the feeling of the lines burning into her back. He sat up, pulling the remaining fabric away to expose her entirely above the waist. Without hesitation he drew a long lick across her stomach, teeth grazing along the tender flesh of her side.

He felt her hands on his face, wrenching him up to look her. His talons mirrored her movements, the ephemeral tickle of her hair on his palms and between his fingers distracting him just enough for him to miss the fierce look in her eyes.

"I don't believe you."

Garrus' eyes were feral and he bared his teeth at her, growling. '__Tone it down!____'__ what was left of his rational mind screamed at him, but the look on her face... Desperation? Excitement? Realization in the fog of his lust hit him like a krogan death charge - she was provoking him on purpose, giving him permission to lose control.

He felt her right hand drop from his face, fingers brushing across the bite she had given him moments before. The slight sting of pain from her touch caused his talon's to tighten in her hair. She raised her fingers for inspection, her eyes innocently regarding the small amount of blue blood there. Shepard's gaze came back to the turian watching her closely, his growling tapering off as she brought the small digits up to her face.

Two bloodied fingers ran a light trail part way down her nose, then over her left check, ending at her jaw. Whether she knew the significance of her actions or not, it was all Garrus could take.

He grabbed her shoulder roughly with his left hand, pushing her back at an angle that would have been awkward for most turians. Dragging his blue tongue from her belly button to her chest, her right nipple was caught in its path. The gasping moan that fell from her lips sent him back to the hard pink spots over and over, his teeth grazing the underside of her breasts. She was making sounds that were driving him mad. Instinct was telling him to bite, despite the voice in his head that kept warning him not to get carried away. __Humans are soft, I could tear her apart.__ He nipped gently, trying to gauge her reaction but at the same time not being unable to stop himself from demanding her submission.

The next words she spoke would be the end of whatever sanity he still had.

"Are you going to fuck me like a turian? Or have you forgotten how?"

Garrus roared as he pushed her back onto the cold, textured floor. The crashing sounds of more falling crates were joined by the sounds of their armoured greaves grinding together. Taloned hands desperately reached underneath Shepard, grabbing the edge of her pants. A quick twist was followed by the sound of tearing fabric as the garment was torn right in half. The earthy scent of her sex assaulted the turian's senses and he swayed imperceptibly as his eyes fluttered.

Those same eyes snapped open when he felt strong, smooth fingers lace around his member, working it out of the confining fabric of his pants. His throat felt raw; it had been a while since he had last growled his way through a sexual encounter. He ached for her, swelling in her hands as she urgently pulled him towards the damp heat between her legs.

Hot, wet, smooth folds embraced the tip of him and he curled the rest of his body over her, his face hovering above her left shoulder. This was such a complete unknown. Whatever doubts he had in his mind, whatever worries about their physiological compatibility, they were no match for the crazed lust that saturated his every thought.

Without warning, his body jerked, burying him deep within her as his sharp teeth came down on the soft dip between her shoulder and neck. Her pained moan was betrayed by the legs she wrapped around the hooks of his waist. It was shock that released his mouth, some sense of wrong was there, but it was drowned in a raging sea of right. He was thrusting into her hard, his boots scraping on the floor as they sought purchase. The wet clank and grind of their greaves as they rubbed mixed with the sounds of their growls and moans, echoing in the acoustics of the cargo hold.

Shepard's left hand was clawing at the soft hide at the edge of his fringe, the other gripping the tender flesh of his side, pulling him to her. His tongue tasted strange metallic blood, his teeth grazing aggressively farther along her shoulder and arm.

"Garrus... " His name on her lips and the strange sensation of clamping internal muscles sent exhilarating shocks of pleasure through him. Her voice was raised in the desperation of her climax, his frantic pumping pushing her forward on the floor. The sudden death grip that squeezed him from inside her sent him over the edge with a long flanged cry, his movements jerking and deepening as he came.

Quivering and short of breath, his forehead came to rest against her collar bone, his weight forced onto shaking forearms at her sides. With a barely contained moan, the turian's hips twitched with a phantom thrust as the evidence of their coupling ran in hot, sticky rivulets down their legs.

Garrus closed his eyes; Shepard's heart was still racing just below his ear, her breath escaping her in quick puffs. The hand behind his fringe had lost its sharp grip and was rubbing in soothing circles. His head felt heavy and his tongue tingled. With some effort he lifted himself up to look at her. The sight before him both disturbed and aroused him.

Tangles of golden threads and a few smears of red and blue blood across her face and neck. The tiny rings of punctures in the creamy flesh of her shoulder looked angry. Her eyes were closed and her face seemed relaxed, lips open slightly. One intense green eye cracked open to catch him watching her. Before he could say anything to her he felt the muscles around him clench and he sucked in a quick breath.

"Maybe we should continue this upstairs," she suggested; her voice was mellow and it washed over him like a refreshing forest breeze. She didn't seem to understand why it was impossible for them to go anywhere. Maybe human men were designed differently? One of the draw backs of not being familiar with the reproduction of a species before getting intimate...

"Uhhhh we can't. I mean I haven't... " he tried to explain. Shepard shifted, causing his hips to twitch again and he gave a satisfied sigh. He slid out as far as he could before the swollen end of his member stopped suddenly at her opening. Understanding dawned on her face and she gave the back of his head an approving squeeze as he started to move within her once more.

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"Things seem to have quieted down... are they even still down there?"

People had been casually stopping by the engineering deck to find out the results of the ship wide betting frenzy, but there had been no news. No one wanted to suggest the obvious – that someone should go down and check, because no one wanted to be nominated for the job.

At this particular moment, only three people stared out the window overlooking the cluttered room.

"I haven't seen anyone leave," Gabby answered as she tapped the datapad against her open palm, "but it has been an awfully long time."

"Maybe they finally killed each other," Jack said dramatically as she came through the far engineering doors.

"Garrus Vakarian and Commander Shepard are still in the main cargo hold," the AI's disembodied voice announced, just as its blue glow appeared nearby. "While I am unable to determine what has happened due to the location of my cameras, I can report that their vital signs are stable and their voices have returned to a reasonable level."

Jack was shaking her head adamantly as the elevator doors opened behind her. "No way! You can see all the shit they knocked over! They were definitely beating the hell out of each other." She folded her arms angrily, "Maybe they just aren't mortally wounded."

Everyone turned to look as Mordin stepped out of the lift, casually tapping away at his omni tool. "Possible but unlikely. Had noted elevated turian pheromone levels and human hormonal responses since leaving Omega. More likely scenario - Instinctual dominance display by male turian conflicting with cultural dominance role given to human female. Turian militaristic society is widely accepted as over compensation for more primal sexual tendencies. By having a clearly defined social ranking system, they have all but eliminated their dominance displays, except for uhhh... in the bedroom. The more dominant a turian female is, the more attractive she becomes for males, as she is seen as a 'worthy challenge'."

The small group of spectators stared slack jawed at the salarian.

"In this case-"

"Whoa hold on a second Professor." Jack was waving her arms trying to get him to shut his mouth. "Are you suggesting they have been down there this whole time... screwing?"

"Not theorizing, merely stating facts," he answered innocently as he pulled a container out of his pocket. "Reason for joining voyeuristic crowd-" The three humans exchanged looks and shifted uneasily, "have antihistamine shots and creams." He held up the items proudly. "Have not received reports of anaphylactic shock, so must assume mating successful without serious reaction."

The salarian looked around at the mix of horrified, surprised and shocked expressions. Their stunned silence was making him impatient. "Can't stay, need someone to give items to the Commander. One of you perhaps?"

No one seemed to be able to tell if Mordin was serious or not, but no one wanted to find out. Jack was already through the engineering doors, heading back to her hidey-hole, followed quickly by Gabby and Ken. Before the salarian knew it, he was alone, except for the blue glow of EDI.

"Hhm. Perhaps best to leave items in Commander's quarters."

"Professor, I still do not understand why Garrus Vakarian and Commander Shepard would be copulating in the main cargo hold." EDI's voice sounded - as usual - light and innocent. "They do not have compatible DNA and thus their attempt to reproduce is destined to fail."

Mordin smiled to himself, "Of course, confusing for AI. Yes, can try to explain. Let me return to lab and we can discuss."

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She had been riding him slow and deliberately. Her eyes once again found the blue patterns etched into his flesh, running like highways in the direction of their joining and down his right leg. He was tracing curious circles around her belly button, before his hands returned to her hip, testing the soft sinewy flesh there. Humans were so transparent; he could actually see the evidence of her inner mechanics through her thin flesh. Almost like him, he could see faint hints of blue in the creases of her wrists and arms. Watching the muscles and tendons in her right forearm pull and move, he followed them down to where her fingers massaged a spot at the apex of her legs.

__He would have to remember that spot.__

Shepard sighed as she ground against him rhythmically and he growled his approval of her movements and self pleasure. She was a mesmerizing vision of soft curves, beautiful strength and fiery passion. A tiny trickle of blood had made its way from her shoulder to the side of her breast. She caught him smearing a talon through the red trail. He looked up at her, and mimicking her earlier actions he dragged a dark red talon across his left cheek.

Was this ritualistic sharing of blood some human mating practice? It sure wasn't turian. If felt so primal. Wearing the colours of their very essence on each others' skin, the spots where they mixed shone like black war paint. Maybe it was fitting this way. Their every day lives were bathed in blood, why shouldn't this be too?

She was different from him in a million ways, but he was enchanted by each one - loved each one.

He sat up, pressing his face between her breasts and growling a little more impatiently. Taloned hands moved down her back to grab the firm flesh of her rear where he added the strength of his arms to her movements. Her pace was increasing, her movements a little more frantic and he closed his eyes in bliss. It was like some kind of deranged fantasy come to life. Taking a deep breath, he revelled in the scent of this moment. Her smell mingling with his, their blood and sex, the metallic crates and the familiar engine smell of the shuttle. Soft breaths, moist skin and the grinding metal of their greaves - he committed it all to memory.

_Trying to rewrite those desperate mistakes. _

As his eyes opened she was climaxing again. Quickly he flipped her onto her back so he could pound into her with the last of his strength. Her arms looped under his, holding tightly to the back of his cowl. She was raising her hips to meet his thrusts and he could tell by her breathless moans it was rubbing her in just the right way. Pressing her right breast up, he bent his head down to capture the nipple between the curves of his stiff lips, his blue tongue teasing it mercilessly.

She was writhing against him in ecstasy and he felt such a sudden wonderful feeling of harmony that his movements faltered. It was thrilling to be with a partner who was both aroused by their union and able to enjoy repeated pleasure from it. He had never coupled with any of his turian lovers.

"Garrus…." Her voice was all it took. Tensing, he came again, his strangled moan blowing hot breath against her breast.

They were still for a few moments, their breaths so loud they seemed to echo in the large room. How long had they been on the floor, tangled together in a grinding sloppy mess? He couldn't be sure. Arms and legs ached and his throat felt raw. The woman below him looked dishevelled, sweaty and worn out. He held her against his chest and rolled over so she could rest on top of him.

The stress of the mission and their frantic sex had exhausted him sufficiently that finally felt himself soften enough to pull out of her. The room seemed unnaturally quiet now. The air was heavy and saturated with the smell of their sex. Garrus shifted uncomfortably on the cold floor, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around the woman in his lap. She gave him a slight awkward smile before turning to assess the disaster that surrounded them.

Scattered pieces of armour, torn clothing and toppled crates lay in a frozen whirlwind in every direction, a standing testament to the violent intensity of their union. It looked more like a crime scene than one of unleashed passion. Although, he figured, what they had done together would probably have been considered a crime to a lot of turians and humans.

Garrus was opening his mouth to speak when a third voice joined their conversation.

"Commander?" Joker's voice sounded deafening in the large room and it made the turian wince.

Shepard leaned forward, pressing her forehead against her partner's. She closed her eyes, and he couldn't tell if she was smiling or frowning when she answered; "Yes Joker?"

"If you and Garrus are finished in the cargo hold, we are receiving a transmission on Alliance channels." The pilot's voice didn't betray one way or another whether he was aware of what had been happening in that room moments earlier. It was a comforting thought. They didn't need the whole crew hearing about this.

"I will be right up." Shepard's voice sounded perfectly calm and professional. Reluctantly, Garrus released his hold on his lover as she pulled herself up, stretching her arms above her head before tenderly probing the angry skin around the bites on her shoulder.

"Shepard I –"

"Stop. We'll continue this later," Shepard said to the turian still on the floor. Grabbing her torn shirt, she used it to wipe the blood and sweat from her face and neck as she made her way to the lockers nearby. After a quick wipe over her slick thighs, she tossed the black rag over her other shoulder and bent down, her right hand pulling at the latches on her greaves.

"Shepard, wait," Garrus was on his feet, stopping her hand on the locker door. "Your neck... I..." But she stopped what she assumed would be an apology with her a shake of her head, pulling open the locker and retrieving a clean uniform.

"It's not a big deal," she assured him, her hand held up to end the protests she imagined were on the tip of his tongue. "That was exactly what I needed." She was pulling on the fresh clothing with quick, sure movements, "Later. Come see me later." She smoothed down her uniform, running a few fingers through her hair before she regarded him.

"My lightening bolt," she whispered before she leaned towards him, pressing her lips to his. Such a simple, tender act; after all these years of wondering, Garrus finally understood its appeal. Too quickly, he felt the loss of the warm touch of her mouth as the kiss ended. When he opened his eyes she was stepping through the cargo bay doors, leaving him naked and alone.


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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Garrus pressed together a few missed snaps on his shirt before beginning to collect the scattered pieces of his armour. He had tried to clean up their mess, re-stacking containers and wiping away the spots of blue and red blood off the floor, but still their scents remained. He stared, transfixed, at the spot where only minutes earlier he and Shepard had been locked together in primal ecstasy. This cargo hold had been witness to human-turian cross species relations that would have horrified members of both races.

His talons twitched in want as he was reminded of her sensuous flesh; the way she fit against him, the pale eyelids, closed in concentration…

Spirits, what had he just done to his Commanding officer? Inappropriate wasn't even the word. __She had instigated it right? Wait, no.__ He tried to think. Anger, no fear, had swept him into a fit of insubordination planet side and he had known she was working hard not to knock some sense into him with the butt of her gun. They had been so furious with each other…. and then…. At what moment had the emotional switch been flicked and turned their toxic rage into mind altering lust?

Touching the silver grey plates of his cheek, he ran a talon over the red blood that was beginning to dry. In his mind he pictured the blue blood on her finger tips, her expression intense as she smeared his life across her face. He shivered, his lower plates shifting as he revisited the arousing images that were permanently burned into his mind. There was no way he would be able to process this right now. Too much had happened in such a short time. One moment they were yelling at each other, and then next they were moaning each others' names.

Whatever he had once imagined might happen between them, what unlikely passing thoughts he had entertained - none of them had turned out like this. With some reluctance, he scrubbed the blood from his face with the torn shirt Shepard had left in her open locker. He tossed it back in, shut the door and pressed his face against it, leaning heavily against the cool metal.

She was clearly ignorant to the significance of their actions.

__Fuck.__

__You dishonourable idiot__, he thought angrily. __She had no idea what you were doing. And she's going to bend your fringe back and ram it up your nose when she finds out. __He was waging an inner war with himself now. Hadn't he tried to tell her right after it happened? Hadn't he tried to explain and she had dismissed him?

Should he even tell her? Spirits, he had __marked__ her, and she wasn't his mate or his whore.

He pushed himself away from the lockers with a frustrated sigh and made for the exit.

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__That first day seemed so long ago. The memories were soft and delicate like the fraying edges of his family's oldest bound book of lineage. His father, carefully turning the pages for him, his small talons resting nervously on the edge of the desk. 'When I am gone, this will be yours to show to your children, so they can know the honourable fathers and mothers they came from.' The spine cracked and protested as the names and dates floating by the young turian's blue eyes____…__

__Garrus sat hunched over his desk in C-Sec. Sure, he had a good job and he worked hard, but there was so much damn bureaucracy. The system seemed to be designed with loop holes specifically to let the biggest assholes in the galaxy escape punishment. He had always been warned that it was generally frowned upon to investigate Spectres, and that's probably why he was doing just that. Always rebelling, even at work. His dad was right; he took after mom more than him.__

__A dark faced turian C-Sec officer wandered over to Garrus' desk. He gave the workspace the once over before crossing his arms. "How's the case going?"__

__The seated turian grunted without looking up. __

"__Wow, that bad?" The other officer leaned casually against Garrus' desk. Spirits, this guy pissed him off. Kolanos was so lazy, always wandering around talking to people and leaving early. Garrus could honestly say he'd never seen the turian do any actual work. Not for the first time, he found himself clamping his mouth shut to stop from asking 'Just what exactly do you do here you crooked fringed, barefaced bastard?' Instead, Garrus made a non committal sound in his throat.__

__Oblivious, Kolanos looked over his shoulder at Garrus, who was trying desperately to ignore him. "That new human officer brought in dextro donuts again." He misinterpreted the seated turian's frustrated sigh. "I know, he's trying so hard it's sad. Wonder if all human food is that sweet. Barf ____–____ oh hey, speaking of which, did you hear they're talking about appointing a human Spectre?"__

"__Humans have been demanding that for ages," Garrus mumbled. __

"__Yeah, but I think they've finally got someone worthwhile lined up."__

"__Oh?" Garrus glanced up from his work, for once somewhat interested in what this mindless knob had to say.__

"__Yeah. Nihlus is checking out the candidate as we speak."__

__Nihlus, that whore. He might be an esteemed spectre, but his charm had gotten him into more than a few situations that were now making the rounds as amusing anecdotes around the meal dispenser. There was a long list of broken hearts and soiled sheets attached to that agent's file. Life of a spectre, people always said - it didn't leave room for long term love or sustained relationships. Still, he just couldn't justify or even understand the necessity to sleep with as many females as possible. If this human spectre candidate was a woman, she better not have a fetish for turians, because Nihlus sure didn't have any reservations about bedding non-dextros.__

"__Human____…____" Leaning back in his chair Garrus rubbed his mandibles thoughtfully. "I guess it makes sense. They've been pushing hard for a while now."__

__Kolanos raised his arms in a gesture of frustration. "Sounds like trouble, don't you think? I mean, humans are pretty emotional, not to mention individualistic and unbearably curious. Sticking their pointy noses in everything____…____"__

__Garrus turned his chair away from his desk, the toes of his boots wiggling as he stretched his legs. "Who is this human?"__

__The other turian thought for a moment. "Oh Uhhh, Commander Shepard, I think. There is a file, but I haven't read it. Probably some idealistic, military hot head."__

__Garrus cocked his head to the side. "Why does that name sound familiar to me... " Answers escaping him, he considered looking it up, but he had work to do. Shaking the thought away he shrugged and turned back to his work. His next words were spoken into the datapad in his hands. "Hopefully the council will have chosen this... Commander Shepard... for the right reasons. Maybe he'll get something done."__

__The other C-Sec officer scoffed, pushing himself away from Garrus' desk. "How often do they actually do anything for the right reasons?" Kolanos asked over his shoulder as he waved a hand in farewell and wandered off.__

__A human Spectre. Garrus couldn't deny his curiosity had been piqued. If this Commander Shepard was going to become a Spectre, then he'd have to be proactive and take a look at his file before it became classified.__

__Correction, her file. His brow plates twitched infinitesimally as he scrolled through the data. Human female, N7 Alliance military, of course, distinguished service and achievements. They were similar in age and he couldn't help but compare her impressive accomplishments with his own. It would have been easy to resent her for her outstanding record, but instead he found himself wanting to meet this human female. He scrolled down a little farther - no family, colonist. He frowned as he read the circumstances of her childhood. Back at the top, he looked at her picture. Her eyes stared back at him from her Alliance portrait. There was something about her. A potential ally perhaps? __

__Voices out in the hallway distracted him from the datapad in his hands. __

"__...attack on the human colony of Eden Prime and the death of council spectre Nihlus Kryik____…____." Garrus sat up in his chair and listened more closely. "There is a witness claiming Saren was there ...and supposedly there were geth everywhere." __

"__Hey Garrus, you better come see this____…____" __

__The humans were going to be out for blood after this __

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With as much casualness as he could muster, Garrus wandered off the elevator and into the mess hall. It was dinner time, of course, and there were more people loitering around than usual. Gardner had seen him turn the corner and was immediately reaching for the turian meal he had ready for him. Garrus had half a mind to just rush past everyone, but damn it, he was starving - and as far as he could tell, no one seemed to be the wiser about what had happened earlier.

Dragging himself over to the counter island, he leaned heavily across from where the older man was waiting.

"Well holy shit Vakarian, looks like the Commander let you out alive after all!" The mess sergeant let out a harsh laugh, "hearing all that commotion down there we thought for sure one of you was coming out on a stretcher."

Garrus kept his mandibles tight, trying to evaluate the situation. He could feel the whole room turn its attention to him, and unlike all the other times he had strode past this human audience, he was now struck with a horrifying uneasiness. He had to remind himself that most of these humans would have no experience gauging turian facial expressions – he hoped anyway.

To his relief, it sounded like everyone thought he and Shepard had been fighting, so he decided to run with that.

"I think we sorted out our differences," he spoke carefully. "I'm sure it sounded worse than it really was."

"Who came out on top?" The voice came from the table behind him, and Garrus froze. What kind of question was that? Who had come out on top? They had both spent time on top. __Not helping, Vakarian.__

Turning slowly, he looked at the eager faces of the dining crew. When he didn't answer right away, one of the bridge crew chimed in, "A few people want to settle some bets I think."

Garrus gave an inward sigh of relief. Unnatural cross species, deviant sexual act with resurrected superior officer aboard a pro human organization's vessel… still a secret? Check. Perhaps he would escape the angry mob long enough for them to miss their chance to break his leg spurs and leave him for the varren.

"Well, the Commander always comes out on top," he said, wondering afterwards if it sounded too suggestive. The crowd seemed to consider this for a moment and, as if agreeing all at once that this was the most information there were likely to get, they erupted in chatter amongst themselves. Omni tools appeared, followed by a few raised voices. Catastrophe averted, Garrus thought proudly to himself and he turned back to the mess sergeant.

"Uh hunh, well, you look like hell," the man observed as he passed the turian the plate of food, which smelled surprisingly good. "And you might want to get that looked at," he added, pointing. Garrus, distracted by his rumbling stomach, looked from the plate to the human a few times, trying to process his hunger and the man's words simultaneously. It wasn't working. The human gave a few sideways glances to see if anyone was watching and then he casually touched his own neck. Garrus' felt his left mandible quiver.

__Spirits, the bite on my neck__. Her teeth were so dull, he had doubted anyone could see it.

The turian's eyes widened and he nodded quickly, muttering something about calibrations as he tried to make a hasty exit. But as he made to leave, he looked back at the food, hesitated, then grabbed it and headed for the main battery. Maybe he wasn't going to escape that mob after all.

He reached the end of the rows of sleeping pods, and as the main battery doors closed swiftly behind him, he slumped against the closest bulkhead, the tray of food still in his hands. Things were quickly becoming very, very complicated. Looking at his plate of food and then around at the now familiar small work space, he decided he really didn't want to spend the rest of his evening there.

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Catastrophe. That's why he'd grabbed the datapad. It had nothing on it, but damned if he was going to walk around the ship with an open invitation for queries that empty hands seemed to mean to every human he passed. Garrus had discovered that the more crap you were carrying, the less likely human's would stop to talk to you.

"Vakarian."

Shit. It was always when he was waiting for the elevator. Only twenty minutes and the mess hall had calmed down enough for him to drop off his plate, grab a bottle of additive water and sneak away. His plan had him make a casual sprint for the elevator, hit deck one and be home free.

But catastrophe had appeared, and she was asking him questions, even though his hands were full! Couldn't she see his hands were full?

"Heading up to the CIC?" The dark haired woman's voice was cool and casual - predictable.

"What business is it of yours?"

"Everything that happens on this ship is my business," Miranda answered emphatically, her critical eyes studying him. Garrus' gaze remained on the elevator door, keeping the mark on his neck out of sight. This woman was the very last person he ever wanted to see, no matter what the situation. Now he was certain he'd rather be chewing broken glass.

"Well good for you. I have to drop this datapad off to the Commander," the answered, trying to sound disinterested. The very doors to heaven had opened and he moved to step into the elevator to escape Miranda's prying.

"Maybe I'll join you."

Garrus raised the hand holding the datapad up against the edge of the open elevator door. "And maybe you won't."

Miranda's eyebrows rose. "Tell me what happened in the cargo hold," she demanded. Her hands were on her waist and she nearly spat the words at him.

Garrus cocked his head and said with forced surprise, "you mean you're the only one that doesn't know?" Evading, what else could he do? Miranda was becoming obviously agitated, and the turian was finding it less threatening and more than a little amusing.

"You spoke to Shepard and that was great," she began, "but kicking the shit out of our Commander is not good for the mission."

"I didn't kick the shit out of her." That was a fairly honest answer, he told himself.

"I don't want any trouble Vakarian."

"Neither do I, 'Larson'"

"It's 'Laws-" and the elevator doors closed behind him. He had dodged another bullet. Two for two, that wasn't bad at all.

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The doors to the captain's cabin slid open and closed. Shepard paused at the top of the stairs as she regarded the pair of large two toed boots sitting neatly beside the couch. A quick survey of her quarters revealed an empty bottle on the table, a blank datapad, and a box that looked suspiciously like it came from the med bay. In the corner of the couch was the dark silhouette of a turian, his hand loosely clutching his visor, fast asleep.

Shepard slid off her own shoes and quietly removed her uniform. Having been back earlier to shower, she simply pulled on some loose shorts and a tank top. She had never been one to walk around her quarters in the nude. The cold surfaces, the door that crew always seemed to be letting themselves in through, not to mention that giant window, all good reasons for clothes. But the sleeping anomaly in her room… maybe that was a good reason for no clothes.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she studied the unconscious figure on her couch. She listened to the soft purr of his breaths, watched the way his mandibles twitched in his sleep like a dog's legs when it's chasing a squirrel through the foggy forests of its dreams.

Trying to get any work done after their encounter in the cargo hold was a joke. She'd been thinking about it considerably, and constantly. She'd always had a soft spot for Garrus, but in the past she had always seen him as young, impressionable - her responsibility. He wasn't at all like that now.

She didn't have the heart to wake him, so she quietly picked up the box on the table and opened it. She looked at the two injectors, the small container of cream. Sure enough she checked her messages at her desk and found that Mordin had sent her a detailed description of the contents in the box and their intended use. God, if Mordin knew… did that mean the whole crew knew?

It really was small ship.

She took the container of cream and returned to the table to grab the datapad before crawling into the already warmed sheets of her bed. Ah, the luxuries of private sector design - adjustable bed temperatures. Sniffing the clear gel in the container, she deemed is safe and began rubbing a small amount across the wounds on her shoulder. The pads of her fingers paused against the small craters left by his teeth. Images replayed in her mind – hot breath, sharp claws, unchecked aggression and passion exploding in a frantic drive for release.

She had never been into crazy rough alien sex, so what had caused her to take such a detour at this point in her life? Or maybe buying that issue of Fornax had been a mistake.

Unconsciously pulling her legs together, Shepard made herself comfortable against a few piled pillows and set the cream aside. She picked up the datapad in front of her. There was nothing on it... strange. Why would he have brought this with him?

She pulled up the extranet search history and felt her eye brows rise. Human courting practices, human male behaviour, human sexual practices, human bonding, human clan initiation, human marriage, human turian bonding... A note of anxiety rose within her. She looked back to the sleeping figure on her couch. He had certainly been busy the past two hours.

What had happened in the cargo hold was... well what was it? She had NEVER felt passion like that for any of her human lovers. Was it the danger? Or maybe it was the eroticism of engaging in an act considered taboo and deviant for their species to participate in together? Or maybe it was just Garrus. She had done things with him that she had never and probably would never do with a human lover - blood play, border line sadomasochism, even just the pleading and screaming in ecstasy wasn't her usual MO. Sex used to satisfy the old Commander Shepard in a beginning and end sort of way. It never left her a begging, screaming slave to her own pleasure. There had been something about the raw passion, the complete surrender to need, no walls, no pretending - just blind exposed lust.

Shepard felt her cheeks burning and she smiled to herself. Maybe she should do a little research of her own.

_-turian mating practices-_

The first article, written by a salarian doctor, seemed promising enough. Skimming over the sentences, she paused when a few words caught her attention: 'differences between casual sex and bond mating... turians, while usually considered very professional and held to their strict code of honour, can easily lose control of themselves while engaged in sexual encounters. While mating is emotional and hormonally driven, turians are also compelled by a strong desire to dominate a worthy mate...'

Her work day had been long, and though her mind was willing, her eyes were beginning to droop as she skimmed a little farther along '...biting usually only occurs between bond mates... casual sex for turians is based entirely on reaching a purely physical climatic release and does not involve joining, and generally not biting (unless knowingly used as a form of punishment or control). This typically due to the lack of necessary stimuli. The correct combination of emotional, physical and consensual mating signals must exist for a bond mate response. If a turian female is uninterested in the coital advances of a potential bond mate she prevents biting, and thus prevents joining... Bond mating usually occurs after the completion of the turian practice of Aptus Vita and clan or family acceptance. Typically mated for life, turians are often cautious about relationships where a partner already bares the marks of another, as this can lead to inappropriate public aggression and is widely regarded as dishonourable...'

So which was it? Was she a whore he was able to mar, or was it something else? He had never treated her with anything but respect and general professionalism. The alternative seemed almost as unsettling.

She had read enough. Dropping the datapad on her lap, she stared at her sleeping turian lover. He looked so peaceful, the scarred side of his face hidden against the cushions. It reminded her of how he had looked years earlier; young, idealistic, and so eager to change the galaxy. She had found him endearing, charming, someone who she felt compelled to converse and share with. If she was going to be honest with herself the idea of them together had crossed her mind, even back then. The metallic alien skin, the sharp edges and intense eyes, it all seemed mysterious and appealing to her. But at the time she knew it would have disrupted the crew, and she felt a certain responsibility to provide Garrus with the knowledge and leadership he seemed so desperate for at the time. Ordering him to strip and please her would have been wrong on so many levels… maybe not all levels… definitely not all levels.

But that was then. He had caught up to her in the past two years, and now they seemed to be looking eye to eye - at least enough for him to start challenging her on missions.

All this new information had left her mind spinning. That article made it sound like they hadn't just had a wild bout of passionate sex. In fact, it sounded suspiciously like they were now involved on some really serious level, at least by turian standards. A sliver of anger touched her mood. If she were honest with herself, they hardly knew anything about each other. She knew him, but she didn't really know anything about him – he was a complete enigma. They had only really talked about the times they had spent together. Where on Palaven was he from? When was his birthday? Did he have any siblings? All first date crap they had totally missed. Why had he felt he had the right to move their relationship in a direction she had no way to predict or understand, and without any warning?

It wasn't entirely distasteful, but it was fast. Something was going on, but she needed time to process everything, so she made the decision to play the ignorance card and not mention her research. If Garrus wanted to come forward with some sort of explanation, then he would do it when he was ready.

That was if he was even planning on explaining any of this to her.

Shepard yawned, rubbing the base of her palms across her eye brows. Glancing down at her shoulder she gave it a tentative roll. Much of the redness had faded and the bites had lost their tenderness.

Tired eyes took in a few more lines on the datapad before it was tossed onto the other side of the bed. Curling up on her side, those last few words drifted through Shepard's mind as she closed her eyes, 'Turians attach a great deal of meaning and emotion to smells, the ones valued most those of their mate and their children.'

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"__... Your investigation is over."__

__Pallin was being a fool. Saren was guilty, and Garrus knew it. __

__The executor walked away and Garrus turned, only to come face to face with the human female he had been reading about just a few hours earlier. He could feel her sizing him up before she stopped in front of him. The nicks and scuffs on her armour a testament to its use, each one a battle survived, a point proven. Light caught on a scraped edge on her shoulder and he found himself blinking hard in momentary blindness. She studied him with her large human eyes, their deep penetrating green like the ferns that mapped the dark Palaven shade. __

__So strong. Her movements spoke of the strength of her muscles, the fluidity of each action communicating toned and trained limbs. He had been going over and over in his mind what he would say to her, something that would get her on his side. If she was going to become a Spectre, they might be able to take down Saren together.__

__He had straightened up out of habit in the presence of a superior.__

"__Commander Shepard? Garrus Vakarian..."__

__Their exchange was brief, her human companions hurrying her on to see the council. She had been professional, but she definitely seemed interested in his investigation. He watched the three humans disappear up the stairs. Certainly he must have made an impression. If he could join forces with a Spectre... his mandibles flared, he was getting ahead of himself.__

__He could hear angry voices echo in the council chambers; Saren's voice, and then her voice. Waiting, he listened for a few moments. Of course they wouldn't believe her, she was just a human. One of the guards on duty gave him a long look, and Garrus knew he was over staying his welcome. Descending the stairs to the elevator, he formulated his next move. He was going to have to break this case wide open and come up with some evidence if they were going to have a fighting chance at stopping that mad turian spectre. __


	5. Chapter 5

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>Chapter 5<p>

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_He reached for her, desperate to touch the vision that had haunted him for so long. Her image was foggy, the edges shimmering and dancing before him. When his fingers made contact, so much of his anxiety drained away, leaving only mind numbing tranquillity. As his hands trailed down her arms, his desperate, guilty desire surfaced like a frightened animal - wide eyed and impulsive. Pressing himself against her, he relished in her softness, her tactility, but through it all some part of his mind knew something was wrong, an angry voice in his head screaming that this wasn't Shepard. This was a doppelganger; a decoy. _

_It would only bring him misery._

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Garrus' muscles protested as he shifted on the short couch, his eyes opening sleepily. He must have been dreaming, as a strange mixture of guilt and desire mixed in his bleary mind. The soothing hum of the ship muffled the quiet breaths of the woman asleep in the bed across from him. The air seemed heavier, the light scent of soap blanketing the space around her. He must have underestimated just how tired he was if he had slept through her return to her quarters.

Only asleep for a few hours, so his omni tool confessed. He was glad he had changed into casual clothes before coming up. Silently he removed his visor and pulled off his jacket and pants so that he was in his underclothes. As quietly as he could, he stalked up to the edge of the bed, pausing as he cast a soft distorted shadow over his lover. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. Crazy cargo hold sex was not an open invitation for sharing a bed. For all he knew it could have been a onetime thing.

__That's great Vakarian, so why did mark her? Why come up here at all? You know the difference between flesh and phantoms. Why this constant desire to be close to her?__

Shepard's breathing hadn't changed so he indulged in a moment to watch her at her most vulnerable. All rounded edges and smooth flesh - she seemed small and delicate, a fragile human female assured in the safety of her bed. On her neck, he caught a glimpse of the row of red punctures that declared his intent, his dominance. He shuddered.

This was all such a disaster, a spiralling fusion missile whose fallout would surely destroy him. He had never planned this… and romancing the memory of the dead was not the same. Sure he had given in to the occasional musing of a relationship between them, but it always involved casual conversations, shore leave dinners, late night evening vids, shy gifts and soft tentative touches – all this before he would have even broached the topic of bonding. That was how normal individuals came together. This wasn't the stone age, people didn't get into a physical alteration in public before tearing off their clothes and fucking each other into submission. He had completely crossed the line and eventually he was going to have to fess up to his mistake and deal with her reaction.

Gently, he raised the edge of the white duvet. He stilled, watching for any sign that she was waking, but she gave none. His visor would have told him if she was faking – he glanced over at the table where he had left it. But her back continued to rise and fall evenly, so he figured it was safe.

Spirits, he was uneasy. Excitement coursed through him at the thought of being close to her again, something he used to yearn for during his darkest times. His primal needs was waging an intense battle with his nervous desire to run. He still had time to leave; he could just walk away right now. Instincts and emotions were begging him to curl up with his lover, but he was unable to shake the worry that she had possibly only needed him for her own sexual release. It was too late for him now. What the hell had he been thinking bonding with a human? Not even telling her he was doing it... And a commanding officer.

Spirits, he was an asshole.

His stomach turned at the thought of her rejection. She had no idea how invested he was, after all that had happened and then their exchange in the cargo hold. If this was just a casual thing for her... it would make the devastation on the surface of Tuchanka simply seem like poor landscaping choices.

It had been so easy for him in the past two years to speak to her and divulge his darkest secrets, because he never had to actually face her. How many times had he wished for her to be in front of him in the flesh and blood? All those sacrifices and poor decisions just to get a glimpse of her again. Now here she was, and he was being ruled by fear and self-doubt, falling over himself like a prepubescent.

Garrus squeezed his eyes shut and conjured a hazy memory of standing on a rocky outcrop over a shady Palaven swimming hole, his friends already in the water below. The cool water would shock him, but before long it would feel comfortable and refreshing – he just needed the courage to make that jump. Taking a deep breath, he slid in beside her in one smooth motion, cautiously placing a warm taloned hand on the curve of her hip.

The next few moments were a blur as the very moment he made contact with her flesh the sheets erupted around him. Pain shot through his abdomen as a boney knee pushed him onto his back, pinning him to the bed. A click and a hiss. The turian's eyes followed the cold metal barrel that was pressed into his face, up into the eyes of his lover. He had looked up just in time to see Shepard's expression relax.

"Jesus Garrus!" The gun came down, and she removed her knee, sitting up beside him. Despite his own shaken state, he noticed the slight waver in her hand as she set the gun down on the side table and planted her face in her other hand.

"You know," he let a long breath escape him, "I had been thinking we'd save the really kinky stuff for later." His voice was nervous, but the joke invoked the desired response. Shepard gave a relieved chuckle as she flopped back against her pillow.

"Sorry, sorry," she muttered, running a hand through her hair and looked over at him. "You just startled me. I've been kind of a light sleeper lately. I didn't mean to uhhh... almost shoot you."

"No, it's fine. I deserved that, I think." Garrus winced inwardly at his open invitation to discuss whatever was going on between them. There was a long silence - not exactly awkward, but expectant.

"You want to talk... about this?"

Commander Shepard - always to the point, even in the bedroom.

"Yeah... " he answered uncertainly. They shifted a bit so they were facing each other. Garrus grabbed another pillow and stuffed it under his head. "I thought we might..." he began, but something had apparently caught her eye because she was leaning over him. Words caught like a lump in his throat at her sudden proximity.

"Your neck..." she mumbled. Garrus felt his heart leap out of his chest as Shepard's cool fingertip rested on his chin, gently turning his head. She was evidently trying to get a better look at the mark she had left on him. The wound must have looked angry because out of the corner of his eye he could see her concerned look. "Sore?" she asked, not waiting for a response before she poked the edge of the bite, the muscles tensing underneath. Gradually he nodded, but his slight discomfort was not the reason why he was giving her these slow, deliberate reactions. His intense gaze followed her as she slipped out of bed and retrieved a small box off her desk.

"The crew must already know - at least Mordin knows. He left some interesting items on my desk." She gave him a glance at the contents of the box before pushing a few loose strands of hair out of her face as she squinted at the writing on the side of the container. "Antihistamines... I don't think I had an allergic reaction, did you?"

"Can't say I was really thinking about it." Garrus' mandibles flared, and for the first time since they had shared drinks on Illium, Shepard suddenly looked unsure of herself.

Opening the small cream container, she climbed back onto the bed beside him. Careful movements and eyes that refused to leave his read as instinctual prey responses to him. Some element of the more ancient part of her brain must have found him threatening on some level, whether she realized it or not. She was helplessly on her guard, like a child invited to pet a tamed wild animal - one that could turn savage at any moment.

Garrus had sat up, his hands baring his weight against the mattress. Shepard rubbed her fingers together to warm the cool gel before reaching for him. In one swift movement he snatched her wrist in his left hand, their poses struck as if in stone. Her pulse quickened beneath his grasp as her wide green eyes watched him. "Shepard." Just as it had before, it came out as a warning. He couldn't help the hungry look that travelled along her neck and down to her heaving chest. She waited for him to continue, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. Mandibles flared again and his mouth twitched, but once again the words in his mind couldn't be willed into existence. Just as quickly as it had happened, his grip on her wrist loosened and the spell was broken.

There was hardly a pause before Shepard sidled a little closer so that her fingers could gently smear the gel across the blue crusted wound. Finished, her hand came away slowly but she continued to scrutinize his neck. "I want to look at you."

His eyes narrowed at what sounded suspiciously like an order, her true meaning revealed in the way her hands tentatively ran down the exposed edge of his cowl.

"Human curiosity?" he asked and she shrugged absently, her eyes distracted and serious as they focused on where her hands were exploring. "Ok, but..." Garrus had begun to pull at the snaps of his undershirt, when he paused, waiting for her to look up at him, "we're going to talk about... this, right?"

She made no move to answer, so reluctantly he took her silence as agreement and tossed his shirt on the floor. Swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, he began to pull off his underwear. He couldn't help but look over his shoulder to where she was watching him, keen eyes but no other expression to suggest what she was thinking.

He pulled his legs back onto the bed, tucking one leg under the raised knee of the other. She didn't move, simply appraised him with an oddly serene expression. Her legs folded to one side, and she scooted up closer to him. Not one to feel uncomfortable naked, as most of his anatomy was hidden within, Garrus found this to be completely different. She looked as though she were truly seeing him for the first time, mapping the unfamiliar terrain of an alien planet with the passion of a fervent explorer.

That look she had. He could almost envision it in on the faces of the humans who first laid eyes on that first turian ship; open curiosity and elation at their discovery - only for it to turn to utter horror as they were attacked. He realized something in that moment, felt the sudden tragedy of humanity's loss of innocence in the way she was almost reverently touching him. It was like a little piece of the good that humanity was capable of had died when the turians had made that fateful transgression years ago. Now he could only catch glimpses of it in her thorough movements, somewhere between the clinical touch of a doctor and the tender caress of a lover.

Her voice startled him. "Can turians cry?"

Through the fog in his mind that her touch was causing, he found the strength to offer her a response.

"If you mean tears, no. A human that I worked with at C-Sec once told me a turian crying sounded like..." He tried to think back to the words the man had used, Shepard's curious fingers not making it easy. "I think he said like a cross between bird song and a dog howling, whatever that means."

She seemed to take this new information in as her hands travelled down his arms. He wanted to ask her why it mattered, but instead he watched her turn his hand over in hers, tracing the ridges and wrinkles of his fingers and ending at his talons.

Shepard's journey returned her to the gracefully formed plates and ridges that criss-crossed his upper body, smoothing over the crest that ran down the centre of his chest before pausing over the blue ink imbedded in the skin. He read the question in her eyes, her lips slightly parted by saying nothing.

"Face tattoos are for identification of the living... the body tattoos were for identification of the fallen after a battle. A long time ago factions were stealing the heads of the fallen to prevent their legion from recording their honourable deaths. Now it's mostly a dying tradition."

"Like dog tags."

He nodded, recalling Shepard's trip back to the wreckage of the Normandy. Her insistence that she should go alone, and the handful of metallic necklaces she returned with. Leaning closer to him, her hands followed the blue patterns down his right side to his hip. Garrus gave a low purr as her hands pressed against the soft flesh of his lower abdomen.

"Sensitive spot?"

He nodded again, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the soothing touch of her hands. When they moved on, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Nimble fingers were on his thighs, his knees, and then they were testing the sharpness of the tips of his leg spurs. Still farther she went until she cradled one heavy foot in her hands. She bent each joint and toe, judging its radial movements, watching the skin pull and stretch. What did she see when she looked at him?

And then just as suddenly, it all changed. She dropped his foot, pushed down his knee, crawled up his body and straddled him.

"Garrus, I can't pretend I have a healthy concept of intimacy..." Her words were coming out in a rush, and were only a prelude to the fierce kiss she landed on his lips. Strong hands gripped his shoulder and he felt her tongue push its way into his mouth, teasing his tongue and running along his sharp teeth. The metallic taste of her blood made him growl, the memory of it shooting through him like the charge off a high voltage live wire. His deep set sense of honour demanded that he stop this, that he be upfront with her about what had already transpired, his feelings, all the questionable things that had happened. They needed to talk before they further entangled themselves, but he found he was unable to deny her.

Sitting up, he brought his arms under hers, slipping his talons beneath the hem of her shirt and resting them on the bare flesh of her back. He pressed his own tongue past her soft lip, running the tip along the strange ridges he found on the roof of her mouth. Their tongues danced easily as though they had done it a thousand times before. Gasping, she pulled away from him, her shoulders lifting with her hard breaths. Her expression spoke of an internal battle waging within, one which was only hinted at in the way her eyes were cast down to the void between them.

"How much of yourself can you give?" he suddenly asked, his voice coming out sounding unnaturally anxious.

She didn't look up immediately, but she shivered as one of his talons began to trace a delicate circle on her back. He waited quietly for her answer, but it was beginning to seem like she wouldn't be forthcoming with one. In actions that spoke of longing and even desperation, she pressed herself closer to him and he brought her forehead to his.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice apologetic; her eyes looking into his, searching. It wasn't enough, but for now it would have to be. Her expression suddenly turned serious, "Garrus, if anything happens… I need you to finish the mission."

He pulled away from her, shocked. "What?" But instead of an answer, she grabbed his face and pulled him back to her, peppering light kisses along his unscarred check.

"Please, just promise me you'll finish it?" She asked again. A million reasons why her request was completely unreasonable leapt to his lips, but her grip tightened and she was practically begging, "Please, Garrus." This look she was giving him was one he had never seen before, and it frightened him.

How could he refuse any request she made of him?

"I promise," he murmured into her hair.

Things were slower this time. Garrus took his time finding the places that made her gasp and moan. He found he enjoyed the feel of her smooth, firm rear in his palms. She was infinitely intrigued by his crest and fringe, which was fine with him as it was a well known turian erogenous zone.

The threat of his bite still seemed to drive her wild, her skin speaking to him with tiny bumps as it reacted to his hot breath. He grazed his teeth along the base of her breast, and then farther down, along the inside of her thigh. He relished the sounds she made, the way she squirmed against him, her hands reaching for his waist.

They loved each other patiently, with soft touches and sleepy caresses. When he entered her she gave him a content sigh, his blue tongue leaving wet paths across her neck and collar bone. Exhaustion left them for a while as their movements became more focused and intense. The first quakes of her internal muscles clenching around him sent them closer together as he pulled her into his lap. Her arms clung to him and her head fell back, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Pressing his nose against her exposed throat, he growled, pushing into her with a few final jerky thrusts as he emptied himself.

Her head lolled back to him, her chin coming to rest on the top of his head. Holding her close to him, he leaned back on the bed, her muscular body soft and relaxed against him. She was tugging the sheets over them and he curled a protective arm over her back.

It was bliss, and he wished it to never end.

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__"Listen turian, we don't have to like each other to get the mission done."__

__"No, but it might help if we did," Garrus responded, making sure his voice sounded as innocent as possible.__

__Garrus really couldn't say he was surprised at the latest turn of events. He had been incredibly excited to be aboard the Normandy, to work with a spectre and take down Saren. It was a dream come true really. Stepping a two toed boot through the airlock doors, he'd had no misconceptions about the likely hood of some animosity from the human crew. It was actually more surprising that this confrontation hadn't happened sooner.__

__Kaidan's infatuation with the Commander was no secret. Garrus found it rather sad actually - hounding the poor woman at every turn, whining about how hard life had been for him. Everyone has problems, even the Commander. She lost her whole family for spirit's sake and here was this man complaining about how school was 'difficult'. Maybe he was being a little harsh, but this crew member just seemed to perpetually rub him the wrong way.__

__"You stay the hell away from the Commander," the biotic threatened. Though his pointed finger shook only slightly, it revealed just how emotionally involved he was. __

__"You want me to stay away from her? How do you suppose I do that on a ship this size?"__

__"Don't make me ram that stupid looking fringe down your throat."__

__When Kaidan had appeared on the engineering deck moments earlier, it was quite apparent the biotic had finally had enough. It had been obvious to everyone that Kaidan had something for the Commander, but everyone had also noticed that she had a particular, but professional, fondness for Garrus. Maybe she had spotted something promising in him, seeing as she had taken him under her wing like a spectre in training. Every mission, he had been by her side. Her turian ally; she would always take the time to explain to him the reasons behind her actions or impart whatever tactical information she had about intended targets.__

__He and Kaidan hadn't begun badly. In fact, even though they didn't see eye to eye, they had generally gotten along. But as time went by, the biotic's insecurities were getting the best of him, and more often than not they had begun voicing their general displeasure with each other. What Garrus really wanted to do was clock the XO in the head for insulting them both, but he knew the Commander would not be impressed... unless he didn't start it, then maybe he would get away with it.__

__"You are insulting us all with these infantile threats, but mostly you dishonour our Commander if you honestly think she can't make her own decisions," he spat back, his eyes narrowing as he watched the human tense all over. "But I suppose since you are human, you have no real sense of honour."__

__He didn't really mean it, but he knew it would send the biotic over the edge. And it did just that. In a bright blue burst, Alenko yelled as he lunged at the turian. Expecting the attack, Garrus deflected it easily, though the mix of biotics made hand to hand engagement a little more complex. Williams was in the mix in an instant, and to the turian's relief, she was dragging his struggling adversary away. __

__Returning to his casual stance beside the Mako, Garrus watched as Williams struggled to get Kaidan to back off. If he were completely honest with himself, this situation was making him feel a little threatened, though no one would have known it. He doubted that Wrex, the only other non human in the room, would come to his aid if all the humans decided to have it out with him.__

__The elevator doors suddenly opened and everyone froze. Like one of his military academy teachers, he could see Shepard's senses immediately pick up on something being awry. Of course a turian Commander would have been tipped off by the sharp smell of anger, but as she was a human, he wasn't quite sure how she knew. Gut feeling maybe? __

__Quickly surveying the crew with piercing eyes, she was all over them in an instant. "What's going on? Why are you all standing around with those looks on your faces?"__

__Kaidan had wiped the small amount of blood from his nose and Ashley was standing at attention nervously. The only one of them that really looked casual about the whole thing was Wrex, who was practically grinning to himself ____–____ if you could even call that a grin.__

__"There is nothing wrong Commander, I was just leaving," Kaidan answered. __

__Alenko, you lying coward, Garrus hissed inwardly.__

__"Hold it." Shepard halted his escape with a raised hand. Her gaze came across the room to rest on Garrus. Unconsciously, he lifted his head a little and set his shoulders at her inspection. Damn he hoped she wouldn't ask him to explain what had been happening. It would only help to further make him an outsider. __

__Her expression had darkened significantly. "If I get wind of any more bullshit," her gaze snapped back to the biotic, "from ANYONE, I'll have you all in full gear, running laps from the mess hall to the CIC for an entire shift, got it?"__

__"Yes, Ma'am!" The words were out of almost everyone's mouths at once. Well, everyone except Wrex of course, who still seemed to find the whole thing rather amusing.__

__"Alenko, I think your usual post is one floor up?" Shepard wondered aloud. The human nodded as he made a hasty exit, but not before giving Garrus a warning look over his shoulder. Williams had already returned to her work station and had started moving things around in attempt to look busy.__

__The Commander gave them all the once over before turning and heading to engineering.__

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It was a calm, gradual crawl towards consciousness. Like waking to soft tendrils of spring sunlight warming his face, Garrus felt an overwhelming sense of peace he couldn't even recall feeling before. Taking a long, deep breath, he drunk in their combined smells and let out a contented sighed. His eyes opened into the pillow his face was buried in as a clumsy, taloned hand trailed up the other side of the bed, searching for his lover. But he found only cold, twisted sheets. They confessed to him their use, but offered no answers as to where his companion might be. Nose and ears quickly told him the captain's cabin was occupied only by him and Shepard's delicate, lingering smell.

It had been so long since he had slept in a bed with someone else, and even longer since he had experienced the feeling of unexpectedly waking up alone. The turian glanced at his omni tool. He'd been asleep for almost eight hours.

Stretching his arms high above his head, he glanced around the room before hopping out of bed and heading to the bathroom. He had a little time before he was scheduled on duty, definitely enough time to indulge in Shepard's shower. As he turned the water on hot, he caught himself in her mirror. The edges of the glass were already beginning to fog as he stared at himself. Spirits, he was such a mess. Before he caught that missile with his face he hadn't been a bad looking turian. What Shepard saw in him, he really didn't know. He ran the talons of his left hand down his mandibles, feeling the synthetic plate on the side of his face give.

He stepped into the hot spray and closed his eyes. They really hadn't resolved anything last night. Every intention he'd had about coming completely clean with her and discussing what exactly 'they' were had deteriorated into another more primal conversation consisting mostly of needy moans and whispered names.

Just thinking about it was making him excited. Casually, he grazed a tentative hand over his fringe before resting his forehead against the cool shower wall. The talons of his right hand ran along the crease between his lower abdomen and leg. He wouldn't admit to anyone that this wasn't the first time he had thought about Shepard while engaging in intimacies with himself. On board the SR1 sure, it's not like there were any female turians around… and the Commander was exciting, dangerous and dominant. He had never considered it strange that he was thinking about a human while seeking release, because it had just been the idea of her that he found so appealing... hadn't it?

After her death, he couldn't even stomach the thought of it... well, not until- He frowned, pushing the thought away.

Being back aboard the Normandy had changed things. He had easily slipped back into the routine of things – in more ways than one. And now he had a hell of a lot more to fuel for his fantasies. Everything was fair game now. Vivid scenarios sprung up in his mind. He imagined cornering her against the console in the reactor core, the way she would look nervously down the corridor expecting someone to catch them. All the ways he could drive that thought from her mind so that she was focused completely on him.

The plates covering his groin had shifted and he had begun to work his growing shaft in strong, swift movements. He imagined coming up behind her as she examined the galaxy map, bending her forward over the railing and pulling her uniform pants down over the gentle slope of her rear. And she would let him.

It was too quick. Garrus let out a long satisfied sigh as he came against the side of the shower, the steaming water washing the evidence of his lust down the drain. He glanced at the soap dispenser nearby, tempted, but he thought better of it – he may have gotten away without much of a reaction from his activities with the Commander, but he wasn't going to tempt things. A few more moments, then he stepped out and the shower turned off.

Taking his time, he gathered his clothes and boots, and slid on his visor before checking his omni tool for messages.

"EDI, where is Commander Shepard?"

"Commander Shepard is not aboard the Normandy," he crisp voice answered. Garrus had been heading for the door when he came to an abrupt halt at the AI's words.

"What did you say?"

EDI's tone was deceivingly calm and innocent as always. "The Commander landed at the batarian prison on Aratoht four hours, twelve minutes and forty-seven seconds ago."

Confusion now. His mandible pressed flat to his face. "Who went with her?" he thought out loud. It was strange that she hadn't mentioned the next mission, although the way things had gone the night before, they really hadn't had a chance to talk about much of anything. Still, she always took him with her…

"She went alone, Officer Vakarian," the AI answered simply.

_She went alone? She fucking went to a batarian prison alone?_

"You've got to be kidding me," he answered, his voice was slick with dread. The anger that bubbled up inside of him was second only to the gripping fear that had him frozen in place.

"I do not see why this subject would be appropriate to jest about," EDI responded. Arms tense, Garrus had to use all his self control to prevent his fist from driving into the AI console in front of him. His stomach turned and he felt bile rising in his throat. She was down there alone while he'd been literally standing around holding his dick. Panic ripped through him as he imagined her being cornered, trying to fight off batarian prison guards as they overwhelmed her, tortured her and finally left her to die in some forsaken pit.

__Get a hold of yourself, Vakarian.__

"EDI, tell me exactly the series of events leading up to this mission."

"Commander Shepard received a private communication from Admiral Hackett, requesting she rescue an Alliance agent in the Viper Nebula, Bahak system: a Dr. Amanda Kenson. She had reportedly set up a base to study an artifact that proved the validity of the impending reaper invasion. Dr Kenson had gone missing and was believed to be a prisoner on Aratoht. Admiral Hackett requested the Commander perform the mission alone, when she protested, the Admiral explained that the mission was to be covert, and not related to Alliance affairs. He did not want to risk a diplomatic incident. Eventually she acquiesced."

The whole evening together, her seriousness, her strange request that he continue on if something happened to her. She had purposely not mentioned it and kept him distracted, knowing that there would have been no way he would have let her go alone. Everything suddenly came into focus, and he stormed out of Shepard's cabin.

"Updates?" his voice sounded shaky and hollow in the elevator.

"The last transmission received from Commander Shepard was three hours, seventeen minutes and seven seconds ago. She confirmed the safety of Dr. Kenson and stated that she would be returning with the doctor to investigate the claims of a reaper artifact Her next communication was expected to be from the compound where she could safely transmit coordinates. "

At least he knew she wasn't still planet side - that's how it seemed anyway. He breathed a small sigh of relief.

Passing through the elevator doors, he made his way through the CIC. His presence there was unusual enough, but the spectacle was magnified by his casual attire. The bridge crew were craning their necks and giving him sideways glances as he marched up to the cockpit.

"I hope you didn't bring your stick with you," Joker mumbled as he turned in his chair to face the approaching turian. There was a pause as he took in Garrus' atypical dress. "No one told me today was casual Friday."

"Have you heard anything?"

"Only static," the pilot answered. Immediately back to business, the pilot turned to his console and punched in some information. "We're just waiting with our thumbs up our asses until she contacts us." Joker looked back up at the turian behind him, "I hate to say it, but I've got a bad feeling about this one."

The pilot's words echoed his own thoughts, but hearing someone verbally confirm they were valid made his stomach feel like he was being gutted by an enraged krogan.

"Well, whenever there is reaper technology involved, things usually go to hell," he muttered distractedly.

"Since we know the base is located somewhere within the asteroid belt, I suggest we begin scanning as we are not involved in any other activities," the AI announced. EDI's suggestion was so obvious that Joker and Garrus gave each other despairing looks.

"Right," Garrus agreed as he slid into the station to Joker's right.

"Uhh Garrus..." Joker eyed the turian who was already typing away at the console. It was clear he wasn't going anywhere, so Joker just sighed and started scanning with him.

Minutes turned to hours, and still no word. Miranda had been up to speak with Joker, and although she had been noticeably surprised at Garrus' presence in the cockpit, she had thankfully said nothing. He wanted to ream that Cerberus bitch out for letting Shepard go on this mission alone, but he was too focused on his current task. More than likely he was just looking for someone to take his anger and frustration out on. It was doubtful Miranda could have actually been able to stop the Commander from doing what she wanted, any more than Joker could take him in sparring match.

The pilot in question seemed to be tiring of looking at the scrolling numbers and readings. Garrus felt the man's eyes on him and he waited for the wise ass remark he was sure was heading his way.

"Garrus, I'm sure she's fine. The Commander can handle herself."

It wasn't what he had expected. Garrus stared hard at the orange haptic display in front of him. Was he that transparent? Could everyone see the worry and anger etched into his face?

"She usually has someone watching her back. We all know what happened last time she tried to do things on her own."

Joker's jaw clenched, and Garrus gave him an apologetic look, realizing his error. "Joker, sorry. I… I didn't mean to insinuate... I'm just on edge."

"No, it's fine," the pilot sighed, his fingers returning to their dance on the display. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before he spoke again. "That day on the dock, I thought you would find me and flay me alive."

Garrus stopped scanning and rubbed his talons together, the joints stiff from hours of tapping. "I was upset, but I never blamed you Joker. I can really only blame myself."

"Garrus, you weren't even there."

"Exactly."

Silence returned and it stretched on for the next several hours. They investigated a few anomalous readings, but they all checked out and offered no clues as to where Shepard had gone. Like a cancer, Garrus' frustration had slowly been growing as hope turned to helplessness.

"This is insanity. There has got to be something else we can do," Garrus spat out in frustration, "It's been over fifteen hours. There is no way she would willingly be out of contact for this long." Joker cast a glance at the turian, who had turned in his seat and dropped his head into his hands. Their conversation was over before it began as Miranda's voice came over the comm.

"All team members please report to the Comm room." Her crisp voice sounded predictably unconcerned.

When Garrus arrived at the meeting, there was a disturbing silence that had engulfed the entire room. Eyes watched him as he took his place amongst the gathered team members. He really had to get back into his armour so that he would stop drawing these inquisitive looks.

"It has been a little over fifteen hours since the Commander last contacted the ship," Miranda began as she looked around at the assembled team. "EDI play her last transmission."

Shepard's voice cut through the stillness in the comm. room and Garrus gripped the edge of the oval table that they were gathered around.

_-Normandy?-_

_-Here Commander.-_

_-I have recovered the doctor and am proceeding to the project base to investigate the suspected reaper artifact Hold position, will contact with coordinates when I have a secure channel.-_

_-Aye Commander.-_

"End of transmission" EDI's voice announced to the team.

"We know that a shuttle left the planet's surface about an hour after the Commander touched down and moments before this transmission. The shuttle disappeared approximately forty-five minutes later into the asteroid belt at this point here –"

A red dot appeared on the system map in the centre of the room.

"So right now we're assuming she was on that shuttle, but we don't know for certain," Jacob inquired, his arms crossed as he studied the map severely.

"Precisely," Miranda answered, sounding so proud of herself.

"From the sound of her voice I was say she wasn't under any threat when she sent that transmission," Garrus pointed out as he pushed himself away from the map and looked around at the other people in the room. Everyone seemed concerned, and it drove him mad to think none of them had tried to stop her. "There's no reason to doubt her being on that shuttle."

"Could the transmission have been faked?" Jacob asked to no one in particular.

"It's possible, but it seems unlikely," Tali chimed in, her worry only evident in her voice.

"Must rule out all possibilities until we have more information," Mordin added with his typical bluntness.

Garrus was tired of this inaction. Doing anything was better than sitting around the ship doing nothing. His voice came out rougher than he had intended it to, but he was having trouble containing the emotions that were ravaging him on the inside every moment she was missing. "A team should investigate the prison while the Normandy continues to investigate the asteroids," he declared. Several team members nodded their agreement.

"Scanning the asteroid belt is going to be an impossible task. Even if we only focus on the larger asteroids, that's still thousands and thousands of rocks in the area the shuttle went into," Miranda explained, seeming to take great pleasure in reminding the crew of their hopeless odds, no matter the situation they were in.

"If they are trying to keep the base location secret, then it is possible the base is located much farther away than is being assumed." Thane had finally spoken up. The drell had been unusually quiet lately. "Still, we should have crew scanning the asteroid belt while we send a team back to the prison."

"So who's going to be on the prison infiltration team?" Jacob asked, looking to Miranda for guidance.

"I'm going." Garrus said immediately, itching to get off the ship.

"As will I," Samara added as she stepped forward.

"No, we only need one biotic on the ground team," Miranda replied, her tone dismissively to the Justicar.

"Wouldn't it be prudent for the Executive Officer, as Shepard's second in command, to remain on board the Normandy in case something unexpected were to happen?" Samara queried, her voice holding no reproach. Even still, Miranda seemed taken aback.

"She's right, Miranda." Jacob was nodding his agreement.

"I should also go, seeing as this is an infiltration mission," Kasumi suggested as she turned to Garrus, addressing him directly "I can scout ahead undetected."

"Alright," Miranda seemed reluctant, but in the end she gave in. "Garrus, Samara and Kasumi, suit up. Hopefully you find some answers."

The three nodded and the team dispersed.

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	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

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Despite Aratoht's thin atmosphere, a grey shroud of fog draped the landscape where the team of three hopped out of the Kodiak. The ground gave and squished beneath their feet, evidence of the heavy rains the night before. Quickly they secured their position – the same drop point where Shepard had been left sixteen hours earlier. Garrus' talon tightened over his rifle's trigger. He hadn't felt this desperate to fight in ages. At last he had a chance to do something other than sit aboard the Normandy and wait for something to happen.

Booted toes curled into the muck as the turian held fast the urge to charge ahead. This mission was too important to let his emotions get the better of him. He couldn't risk missing important information because he was storming through the prison shooting everything that moved.

Completely focused, Garrus scrutinized the outside of the complex as Samara inspected the damp ground. She nodded in confirmation towards the building that rose unassumingly out of the ground before them.

"She entered here." Garrus stuck a talon under a loose panel near a security door. "The door circuits have been overridden at this access point." The investigator in him automatically played the scene out in his mind as he pieced the information together.

__Shepard stands alone in the murky darkness and pelting rain, her gloved fingers fiddling with the circuitry and hoping the glow of her omni tool won't reveal her position. Wiping the wet hair out of her eyes, her lips part slightly as she focuses on her task ____–____ her satisfied release of breath when the door opens muted by the slightly louder whisper of the metal sliding along its track. __

A slight adjustment with his gloved talon and the door opened. Kasumi cast a curious glance inside, "Our Commander isn't the most subtle infiltrator, is she?"

Without answering, Garrus whisked past her, assault rifle raised. Silent as apparitions, his two squad mates fell in behind him as they entered the rotting bowels of the prison. A putrid stench was wafting down the shafts, making their throats and eyes burn. The easily traceable muddy tracks that had been so clear when they entered were soon indistinguishable in the slick veneer of gunk that covered every surface around. Without much choice, they followed the only unhindered path, over the small walkway and into the labyrinth of maintenance corridors.

"Dead varren," Garrus pointed out as he gave one of the animals a kick with his boot. The body was stiff, the blood on its hide dark.

__Panting from somewhere in the darkness. Over the surrounding stench she picks up on the smell of varren and knows they must already smell her. Bounding paws, a blaze of glistening teeth and wild eyes ends with a swift elbow and cracked skull.__

"Looks like they've had their faces smashed in," Garrus added as he leaned in closer. Leave it to Shepard to dispatch multiple varren by hand.

"Gunshots don't mix well with covert operations," Kasumi said in her now familiar sardonic tone as she stepped nimbly over the animal carcass. Garrus' only response was to gesture for them to move forward.

Their feet were swift as they navigated the sea of pipes, each dead varren like a bread crumb leading them further into the compound. Despite the stinging in his nostrils, Garrus took in a few deep breaths of the stagnant air, searching for any hint of a scent that would suggest Shepard had been there.

Nothing.

Never the less, his fraught mind couldn't help but place her in those corridors with them as they moved deeper into the prison. Like the phantom he had spent so many nights with, Garrus found he could picture her perfectly...

__Back pressed up against a damp wall, she checks her gun before glancing around the corner and down the next corridor. She's inspecting each door she passes through for alarm triggers, pausing and listening when she hears voices. What lay in wait for her around the next corner? Blindly, she would press on.__

Foolish. He still couldn't believe she had gone in alone.

Not much farther along they discovered scorched walls, the sounds of pressurized flames filtering down the halls.

"Once again, not exactly discreet" Kasumi murmured as she brushed a gloved hand across the charred wall.

Samara's eyes followed the path of the pipes. "Considering the condition this place is in, I would imagine the occasional gas explosion is not unheard of."

Gruff voices reached their ears and trio froze, breath still so they could listen. The tone was angry, but the words were muddled through the veil of sound from the constant dripping water and burning gas. They were so close now. Garrus felt his mandibles quiver in anticipation.

Kasumi turned to her companions. "You guys stay here. I'll go ahead and scout things out." And with a blue fizzle the thief had disappeared.

More waiting. Garrus took a deep breath of stinking air and turned to look at the Justicar. Always such a relaxed guise – how could someone look so serene while in the depths of a batarian prison? Still, Garrus would bet somewhere underneath that calm exterior she felt the thrill of battle, the same rush of excitement that he did when they were on a mission. Maybe.

Huge, glassy blue eyes regarded him, and he shifted his weight uneasily under her scrutiny.

"I think we will find that Shepard is not here." Samara's voice was subdued and thoughtful.

"I'm not holding my breath," he answered. It was a human expression and almost a lie since Garrus really had been holding his breath, and it wasn't just from the stench. Deep down Garrus knew the Justicar was right. Shepard's scent was lost in that decaying place, and despite his fears about what the batarians were capable of, part of him still hoped they would find her there, at least then he could bring her home. It was hard to imagine her ever being captured alive.

__Crouched behind a crate, she checks her gear. Three medigels, a few grenade rounds, and a glance at her SMG tells her she only has enough heat sinks to last five or six more minutes. Her focused, green eyes scan the room, searching for a gas pipe, a major electrical junction, anything she can use to take down her enemies. But they are surrounding her; the constant gunfire has her pinned behind cover and with no avenue of escape. They are demanding her surrender____…____

Kasumi had been gone for too long. The minutes seemed to drag on and impatience was starting to rule Garrus' logic. He shuffled restlessly as he reached the limit of his fortitude. But before he could take any action there was a quick flash of light and a blue fizzle. Staggering back in surprise, Garrus lost his footing and his armour scraped against the wall behind him.

"Maybe you could warn me next time you're going to do that right beside me."

Kasumi shrugged her apology before giving them the run down. "I've found a small office occupied by a single batarian. He looks tired and has his arm in a brace – could be that he was playing catch with our Commander and her gun."

"We should pay him a visit," Samara suggested, and her companions nodded in vigorous agreement.

Garrus raised his rifle and motioned to the thief. "Lead the way."

Urgency moved them quickly out of the lower levels and it was not long before they were standing outside in the fading day light. Light twinkled off the wet sheen that coated every surface of the wide courtyard. To Garrus, the expanse seemed too wide to sneak across. If they were to get caught it would most likely be in these next few moments. Kasumi motioned to the opposite side of the courtyard.

"Over that ledge, through the doors and take a right. Your target is behind the first door you come to. I'm going to distract those guards over there." Kasumi gestured towards the sound of chatting guards to their left.

Garrus scanned the courtyard with his visor, his voice quiet. "If we remain undetected then we'll meet under that stairwell. Otherwise, we break radio silence and come up with a new rendezvous point."

The thief nodded and cloaked. Moments later the guard's chatter paused, and they could be heard heading off to investigate whatever had caught their attention. The way clear, Samara and Garrus sprinted across the courtyard and disappeared into the next building.

Kasumi's directions led them on a path that was thankfully free of batarians. Upon reaching the door, they planted themselves on either side and listened. The room was quiet. Garrus looked to Samara who nodded her readiness before he opened the door.

It was almost funny, the look on the poor batarian's face when Garrus and Samara leapt around the sides of the open door, guns raised. Surprised, the guard's chair tipped back precariously and he had to catch himself in a bout of flailing arms.

"Great gods of our ancestors! Who are you?"

"You don't get to asked the questions. How you come out of this encounter will depend on what kind of answers I get." Garrus had taken a threatening stance beside the guards desk, the barrel of his assault rifle hovering in front of the batarian's face. Eyeing the gun, the seated alien seemed to collect himself.

"Who are you, friends of that __sojat __who came barging in here? I don't have to tell you anything."

Garrus rammed the cold metal of the rifle's barrel against the guard's head and his voice flanged an octave lower. "You're lucky whatever word you just used to describe our commander didn't translate."

"It's batarian slang for female anatomy," Samara clarified and Garrus pressed his gun harder against the guard's face, the force causing his head to tilt towards the floor.

"What do you care turian? You act like you own that female... Can't think why any male would want to..."

Garrus swept around the desk and grabbed the snickering batarian by the collar of his uniform, lifting him up off the ground. The guard clutched the turian's arm as he struggled, crying out in surprise. As much as Garrus' anger was begging him to smash the slimy bastard repeatedly against the wall, he instead found himself reacting with a much more Shepard-like response.

"Do you really feel the information is worth your life?"

The batarian spluttered, "you're as stupid as you look if you think this room won't be filled with guards as soon as they hear gunfire."

"That won't be much help for you. Besides, there is more than one way to kill a batarian." Garrus tightened his hold and the alien coughed and gasped.

"Alright, alright!"

Garrus released his talons and the batarian fell backwards onto his chair. "I don't get paid enough for this shit." He straightened his shirt and eyed his two visitors. "We were holding a human woman, some doctor – she was a suspected terrorist. While she was being interrogated this other human female shows up out of nowhere. That __dasmak__ had an arsenal on her back powerful enough to wipe out this whole prison. I've never seen a firefight like that. I was one of the lucky ones - I only caught a stray bullet. She killed or shot at least a third of our guards. Damn __sojat__... if only I'd had a few moments with her..." the guard leered, having noticed his comments were getting to the turian. "I would have shown her who was in charge. Those human females... I bet you like to make them squeal, don't you turian?"

Garrus let out an angry roar as he wrapped his talons around the batarian's throat. The guard gasped and struggled in his chair as the turian's gloved claws dug into his flesh.

"Then what happened?" Samara asked coolly.

"They –" the guard gasped and choked until Garrus loosened his grip enough for him to speak. "...they escaped... with a shuttle. That was almost a two shifts ago." The batarian's eyes were watering. "Look, that's all I know."

"I want proof." Garrus abruptly released his hold on the guard's neck, letting him drop his head between his knees as he gasped.

"Proof of what?" his words were uneven as he sucked in breaths and coughed. "That they were here?"

"No, I want you to prove that they have gone."

The batarian collected himself and motioned to the monitor in front of him as he called up security footage. Garrus held his breath as he watched.

__Shepard, dug in behind a low wall, fending off waves of guards. The way she's scanning in all directions, it's clear she's feeling the pressure of fighting alone. Total focus has frozen her face into a stoic mask as she brings down her adversaries with careful shots. She's running low on clips, collecting them as she moves between cover. Another woman appears and together they disappear down a lift. The image changes and the battle continues in the shuttle bay. A desperate firefight between crates and storage bins. Explosions erupt on either side of the bay doors and the two women make for the shuttle. Suddenly, as the thrusters engage the footage ends.__

"Left a big scorch mark in the shuttle bay, not to mention several dead guards. We lost track of the shuttle when it entered the asteroid belt." The batarian crossed his arms.

"When does your shift end?" Garrus' voice sounded suspiciously casual. The batarian's four eyes narrowed.

"What? Why...—"

Garrus slammed the butt of his rifle across the batarian's face, the unconscious guard dropping to the floor like a sack of bricks. He felt momentarily disappointed by the underwhelming satisfaction he received from subduing the batarian. What a disgusting being. If only he'd had more time, Garrus thought, he would have enjoyed teaching that guard some manners.

Vengeful feelings caused Garrus to suddenly raise questioning eyes to Samara. The Justicar was watching him closely.

"Samara, you're not going to kill me because I hit him… are you?" He wasn't all that clear on the code, and the idea that he had stepped over some invisible line concerned him. He couldn't quite imagine it - dying in this room because he'd accidentally pissed off a Justicar. The asari had always made Garrus more than a little nervous. Turians knew honour, but Samara's standards were set so high that he found himself constantly checking his motives in her presence.

"No Garrus, you were just. Maintaining our cover will save many innocents." Samara looked down at the unconscious batarian. "I think we can safely assume the Commander did indeed safely escape the prison with Dr. Kenson. But I doubt they have any information about where they have gone."

Garrus nodded his agreement, "Let's go."

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Garrus set his rifle in his locker and looked back at the cargo hold. If he took a long slow breath, he could still catch their combined scent still clinging to the air. Those electric, violent moments they had shared, her touch tearing through him like a wildfire. Never had he felt that way with someone. He had always cared for, admired and respected Shepard. Those years she was gone, something had changed in him... and then she returned and his heart ached every time she was near. That look in her green eyes, she had forgotten what she was fighting for, and seeing it had been the catalyst of their union.

He hadn't been able to find the right words to explain himself. Instead she had mystified him with her touch, transfixed him with her innocent questioning. It all seemed so long ago now, and even Shepard was disappearing back into his memory like she had all those days and nights after the SR1.

The anger he had felt was lost when he closed his eyes.

__She was sitting across from him in Eternity, glass in her hand, laughter in her green eyes. Her happiness is genuine, and in these moments she is not the saviour of the galaxy, but simply a woman. She touches his hand affectionately; her voice is kind and its song soothes the ageing pain of losing her. Why did he deserve her attention? She could have anyone she wanted. White teeth exposed as she smiles at him, her hair rustling against her cheeks as she shakes her head at something silly he's said. Why does she make him so nervous? __

Sudden pain shot through his arm as a desperate fist lashed out at his locker, the sound echoing across the crates and walls. He grimaced, but the pain was enough to clear his mind and pull him away from the seductive memories. A few long strides took him out of the room and towards the elevator.

He needed to get back up to the cockpit.

There were far fewer eyes on him on his next walk up the CIC. It probably helped that he was in his armour again, but Garrus imagined that the bridge crew must be getting used to seeing him up there. The Normandy had already returned to the last known location of the shuttle Shepard and the doctor had been on. Through the cockpit windows the sea of dark rock glittered and moved in endless waves of futility. Joker was scanning again, while Jacob filled the seat next to him. Even the other two stations were occupied by crew members, running scan after scan.

Before the turian had a chance to ask, Joker gave him a look over his shoulder. "Nothing yet, Garrus."

Jacob nodded absently in agreement, his eyes focused on the information in front of him. "Just a lot of cold, floating rock."

Apparently there was nothing for Garrus to do in the CIC except loiter and watch helplessly at the lack of progress. Each anomaly brought a rush of excitement, but it was always followed by a terrible stab of disappointment when it was dismissed as nothing. Garrus' presence was tolerated for some time before he was asked, if not entirely politely, to leave.

Dejected, he wandered down to the main battery and stood for a long time at his post, lost in thought. Hollowness had long since replaced his anger, and it seemed to drain all the energy from his being. Not a moment escaped his obsessing about what was happening to Shepard, trying to picture what she was seeing. Was she in trouble? Was she trapped? If only he had direction, a target to shoot at, or an enemy to maim – anything was better than sitting around waiting.

He looked down at the thanix cannons and then around aimlessly at the bulkheads. This place was just metal and circuits, cold and empty like the inky sea of space surrounding the ship - he had never felt so alone.

In an attempt to salvage some sense of normalcy, he started up a few diagnostics, but he wasn't really paying attention to the results.

__What if Shepard was already dead?__

It had been more than a day since they had tangled in the cargo hold. Gently he touched the gradually healing mark on his neck. He had completely forgotten about it and no doubt by now everyone had seen it. Let them gossip and think what they wanted, he didn't care. None of that matter now anyway. He just wanted her back.

Leaning heavily against the main battery console, Garrus closed his eyes and listened to the hum of the ship. Emotionally and mentally he was running on empty. Physically he wasn't feeling much better. In the hours she had been gone he hadn't even thought about food or sleep, and the tension he was carrying in the muscles of his legs and shoulders had turned to a constant burning ache. He needed to figure out some sort of distraction or release if he wanted to be in any shape if they found Shepard – when they found her. There were no ifs.

Vaguely, Garrus heard the main battery doors open, but he choose not to acknowledge his visitor, hoping whoever it was would leave. Maybe they would believe he was calibrating something, but he doubted it. He knew exactly who was standing behind him in the doorway, the faint scent of antiseptic and the quiet rattle of her breathing filter an immediate give away.

"Garrus?" Her filtered voice was tentative. He didn't move. Couldn't. Spirits, he didn't want to do this right now. "I just wanted to... see if you were alright."

Tali had come by to visit him in the main battery a few times since she had come aboard, and they had enjoyed a comfortable camaraderie. But now, part of him wanted to be an ass, to ask her if she was alright with the fact that Shepard was missing. No, he couldn't be mean to Tali. She had been with them since the beginning, and she was only trying to offer her support, so he kept this mouth shut.

"I was worried. I know... things have been difficult, but I've never seen you like this." She sounded nervous and Garrus berated himself for being such a jerk. Shepard and Tali were close, and of course she would be upset about the Commander's disappearance. Tali should be able to trust him, not be concerned that he was going to melt down or lash out at any moment. He forced himself to relax a little, but he found he still could not turn to face her.

"I don't want to pry but... You and the Commander...?"

Garrus stiffened, his talons flexing around the edge of the console He had already decided it would be best not reveal his affair with Shepard to anyone until he had spoken to her about it. But here was Tali asking him, and he wasn't going to lie to her. Slowly he nodded, thankful that he couldn't see her reaction. It was surprising to him that revealing their involvement somehow made his burden feel a little less. Maybe the idea of someone else knowing his misery would make it a little more endurable.

"Wow. I mean, I won't spread it around... I'm glad the two of you have something together—"

Garrus sighed. "I don't even know what we have." He turned, and looked down at the quarian. She nodded in understanding.

"Well, I don't think Shepard is exactly a typical woman... human or otherwise... but I do think she needs a companion. Even though her name is known throughout the galaxy, she seems terribly alone. Fighting for all life in the galaxy - such a profound burden as she carries is made lighter by the people around her."

"I feel like she's consuming me. Instead of moving away from the fire, I just keep getting closer," Garrus admitted as he looked at the floor. "It is all such a disaster. We didn't even get a chance to talk about it... before..." He couldn't believe he was even having this conversation.

"This must be unbearable for you." Tali shuffled her feet as she thought about what to say next. "We'll find her, Garrus. I'm sure we'll find her. Shepard is probably just dealing with a damaged comm. array and is having trouble contacting us."

"Spirits, I hope you're right, Tali." Garrus' eyes stayed on the floor. There was a pause and he heard her turn to leave. "And Tali," he added, and she paused to looked over her shoulder at him as he lifted his gaze from the floor. "Thanks... for coming down here."

She nodded, and he wondered if there had been a sad smile on her face or if he was just confusing the shadows and glares that reflected off her mask. Garrus' gaze returned to the floor and he listened to her light footsteps disappear towards the mess hall.

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A shadow stood in the door of the captain's cabin, sharp blue eyes scanning the scene. Garrus had spent three hours down in the main battery torturing himself with mindless algorithms and subroutines before he suddenly realized what a fool he was. He had hurried to the elevator and headed directly to deck one. Why had it taken him so long to realize he should be doing what he does best - investigating. Shepard's quarters were the logical place to start his search, even if it was unlikely he would find anything, it wouldn't stop him from looking.

From just inside the door, Garrus took in the sight of her room with the cataloguing eye of a well practised C-Sec investigator. But it wasn't his trained eyes that caught the first thing that was amiss.

A salty sweet smell like beach sand. The turian's eyes narrowed.

Drell.

"Come out Thane, I know you're here."

There was a pause, and then movement as the assassin appeared at the bottom of the stairs, his arms coming to rest behind his back. He gave the turian a casual nod.

"What exactly are you doing here?" Garrus asked as he crossed his arms.

"I could ask you the same thing." The drell's voice was gravelly, and he regarded the turian with his typical calm and composed attention.

Two male crew members snooping around their Commander's quarters - they were at an impasse.

"I don't answer to you," Garrus stated plainly. __Fucking drell__.

"I will go first then," Thane replied, his dark eyes surveying the room. "I came to Shepard's quarters hoping to discover evidence of her whereabouts. Instead I've found someone else has already been here... and I've also found you."

"Then it seems we are both here for the same reasons."

Thane cocked his head to the side. "Are we?"

Garrus ignored the drell, as he reviewed the state of the room. Just as he had left it - unmade bed, empty bottle, box from Mordin and gun on the side table. Garrus approached the fish tank and watched the slippery creatures float mindlessly around. Blissful ignorance, how wonderful it must be.

"Several things have changed since I was here last," Thane continued, making his way casually around the bed. Garrus threw him a dark look out of the corner of his eye. "Her bed speaks of two bodies. The gun on her side table, and this box..."

__Wait, what does he mean, 'since he was here last'____…____.__

Thane carefully opened the box from Mordin, his eyes cataloguing the contents.

"If you have something to say, then say it," the turian bit out.

"Garrus... I am aware of the close relationship you have with the Commander... but have you really thought this through?" Thane set the box back down on the table and turned to the turian who was perfectly still, watching him with narrow eyes. "Shepard is practically a god amongst mortals…"

"She is still a woman."

"Yes, she is. But you must realize her intensity on the battle field is matched by her emotional needs and physical desires... it is the responsibility of everyone on this ship to ensure the Commander is at her best when she must fight and lead."

"You make it sound like becoming the Commander's lover is equivalent to taking a bullet."

"Shepard is intoxicating," the drell admitted, his eyes closing briefly. "She is a terrific force leaving a wake of infatuated potential mates behind her as she passes through this life. Few of us are immune. And it seems that anyone caught up in the typhoon of her admiration is lost forever. That human biotic, Alenko – how well has he fared since being engulfed by the Commander's passion? How will he ever find an equivalent companion?"

Garrus crossed his arms and cocked his head. Thane was suspiciously well informed. "How do you know about him?"

"From what Shepard has told me, Kaidan offered himself to her on the eve of the suicide mission to Illos."

"You've been speaking with her." Garrus' words came out as a statement, but the explanation he was demanding was evident in the aggressive way he moved down the stairs so he was face to face with the drell.

"Yes, she has come to me in search of council on several occasions."

__Smug bastard__.

"During those times I learned of her isolation, and she re-awoke my still heart with her gentle questioning," Thane admitted. Turning away from the threatening turian, he placed his hands on the small desk beside her bed and bowing his head. "I knew then that I was the best choice for this endeavour as she knew I was dying. If I am to die on the suicide mission, she could move on without regret. And if she were to die, I would not suffer her loss for long before I too would die from my illness."

"Guaranteed disappointment. You're quite the catch." Garrus' sarcastic comment was meant to hide the sudden pang of jealousy he felt, but he doubted how affective it was.

The drell's composed face was beginning to belie his anger and frustration. "But you... You think your selfish motives are justification enough. You think because she 'knows' you that you are a better candidate?" Thane took a step closer to the turian. They eyed each other like two boxers in a ring.

"Shepard can make her own decisions," Garrus stated. Why did he always feel he had to stress this point?

"And what will you do if she dies on this mission?"

"She won't die." Garrus' voice was emphatic.

"And how do you think she would handle your death? It would not simply be the death of a good friend, but also a lover. How would she find the strength to continue?"

Garrus had enough. Uncrossing his arms, he moved away from the drell and in an action he hoped sent the other male a clear message, he picked up the gun from the side table and slid it back between the bed and the bulkhead where Shepard had acquired it hours earlier. Whatever Thane thought of this, it was well hidden behind the drell's maddeningly thoughtful expressions.

"I didn't come up here to debate the company Shepard keeps in her bed. She's still missing. Now, either help me look for evidence or get out of my way." Even to his own ears, the turian's voice sounded more defeated than he had meant it.

Thane's head dropped slightly. "The only evidence I have found here is of your reckless lust." And with that, he turned and left.

For hours Garrus had felt numb, like he was walking through the fractured reality of a dream. The drell's words touched a shocking note of reality in Garrus' mind. Now alone, the turian's eyes trailed across the rumpled sheets on the bed, the memories making his stomach drop into his feet. The feelings returned with such a rush that he had to look away. He raised his face to the window in the ceiling and gazed into the depths of infinite space. The stars spoke no secrets, like mute children they blinked innocently back at him, keeping their mysteries. Garrus clamped his eyes shut, his frustration and misery escaping him in a choked, warbling sob.

__Damn it Vakarian, crying about it isn't going to solve anything.__

Quickly regaining control, the turian took a shaky deep breath, opened his eyes and looked back out at the endless pinpoints of light.

"Where are you Shepard?"

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	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

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Signals, ships... maybe the reflection off a glass sided compound.

Like a cruel magician, the rough turning rocks of the asteroid belt taunted him with their fleeting, brilliant flashes. Bits of ice catching the sun's light gave the glittering rocks their means of torture, stealing Garrus' eyes from the console in front of him. Daring him to stop his meticulous scanning and lose himself in the tempting, if not futile, desire to search with his eyes. Regularly, he would find himself staring into the stone graveyard so long that he would forget how much time had passed.

The cockpit was noticeably less crowded when Garrus had returned, and he sat down at the station Jacob must have abandoned some time earlier. Joker only gave him a grunt in acknowledgement, which had been completely understandable as the pilot had been awake as long as Garrus had. EDI was silent, but Garrus knew she had been scanning the span of asteroids too, only thousands of times faster than he or Joker – that was at least a comforting thought. She was so efficient that neither he nor Joker really needed to be scanning at all... still, being busy made them feel like they were doing something about the situation.

Every hour that passed, Garrus felt another part of him suffocate without her. The word 'negative' that came up after each rock he scanned was like a slap in the face. Even worse was admitting their lack of progress to each member of the team who appeared in the cockpit asking for an update. Why did they feel it necessary to ask in person? Tali, Samara, Kasumi, Thane, Mordin, even Jack and Grunt had asked, and Garrus had calmly explained how they had found nothing, but that it was only a matter of time.

He was starting to feel like he was he lying to himself. Everything in the universe was only a matter of time, but time didn't always provide the desired outcome.

In that lonely, repetitive fashion, the next six hours passed in relative silence, neither of them having the energy, nor desire to carry on a conversation – that was, until the intervention.

"Gentlemen, I cannot allow this to continue." Dr. Chakwas had come up behind them. The older woman's voice was sympathetic, but forceful.

"We appreciate the concern, doc, but we can't just stop looking" Joker explained, his gaze staying fixed ahead, his sluggish fingers moving stiffly across the display. Gradually as it became obvious neither of them planned on moving, the doctor became a little more insistent. "EDI is perfectly capable of scanning the asteroid field and there are fresh crew members waiting to take over. They will do a hell of a better job than you two in the state you're both in."

Out of the corner of his eye, Garrus could see the pilot rubbing his eyes warily. He tried not to acknowledge either of them.

"You have both been awake for over thirty four hours –"

"That's a typical cycle back on Palaven," Garrus muttered to himself, part explanation, part excuse.

"Is that so. And when is the last time you were on the turian home world?" she asked.

He had nothing to say to this.

"Look at you Joker, you can barely keep your eyes open, and Garrus… I have never seen a more stubborn turian. You're going to start shedding plates if you don't take care of yourself," the doctor admonished.

Joker looked over at the turian in question, his expression disturbed. "Shed plates? Does that actually happen?" Garrus shot him an unimpressed look.

"Commander Shepard would be incensed if she knew what the two of you were doing to yourselves," she continued. The pilot sighed and turned to the doctor, finally nodding his agreement. Deep down, Garrus knew Chakwas was right; they were both way past being useful. When he didn't catch himself transfixed by the hypnotic waves of rolling rock, he was fumbling with the scanning controls. His wary talons weren't doing much more than button mashing, sending back more error messages than negative scan readings.

"Here," the doctor held two surface injectors. "Hold out your hands, so I can give you both something to help you sleep."

The two of them hesitated.

"I suggest you comply, otherwise I will bring Mordin up here and he can talk you both to sleep."

That was an unbearable thought. Resigned, the turian turned to the doctor. "And if something happens?"

"We'll wake you, Garrus." Chakwas made it sound as though he were silly for even asking. Reluctantly, they both held out their hands. Joker first, then Garrus. "You'll have about ten minutes to get to your beds," she explained. He felt the slight pressure on his palm from the injection, then his muscles relaxed. Defeated, he pulled himself out of his chair as Chakwas turned back to Joker, helping him up.

"I can take him," Garrus offered numbly. The doctor glanced at the pilot who nodded. The turian offered the hobbling man an arm, and together they started towards the elevator. The narcotics were already taking effect – his head was swimming - putting out the fires out of the emotional train wreck he had been. It was enough for him to not notice the crew's curious glances.

Joker gave him a sideways look as the stepped into the elevator.

"What do we do if she doesn't come back?"

"We finish the mission," Garrus answered flatly as the doors opened on the crew deck.

"But the team won't follow Miranda," Joker mumbled as they entered the crew quarters and Garrus helped him onto a bed.

"I promised her I'd finish the mission, and I intend to do it."

The pilot nodded vaguely, his eyes closing. Stepping back unsteadily, Garrus headed back out into the hall. Gently swaying, the dazed turian stepped into the elevator and absently hit the button for deck one.

With foggy pangs of guilt, he looked forward to the impending darkness of unconsciousness.

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__It was surreal; the smouldering rubble, the giant piece of sovereign that had somehow not crushed them when it had come crashing into the tower - and Shepard, alive, emerging from the fallen debris that littered the tower like a vision. They had survived one of the greatest battles of their time. The three of them looked at one another while emergency personnel checked their injuries and applied medi gel to their wounds. Well, not to Wrex's wounds - he was giving his gashes and cuts gratifying looks, stomping the ground in satisfaction. Garrus watched the smile bloom on Shepard's face and he flared his mandibles at her.__

__They were heroes. Voices from the crowd outside the tower began to rumble through the citadel walls. Garrus felt his heart flutter as the muffled sound grew louder and louder. Shepard waved off the emergency crew, eager to return to the Normandy. It was quickly decided that they should leave together, and so Wrex and Garrus flanked their commander as they stepped out into the presidium. __

__The masses of people, some with bloodied and torn clothing, carried bits of geth and sovereign in their hands, hoisting the wreckage over their heads as they yelled in triumph. Kinetic barriers flickered high above where parts of the artificial sky had been broken open. Bits of burning debris was falling like glowing snow over the uncaring crowds. Somewhere in the distance, maybe near the entrance to the wards, there was rhythmic chanting and the sound of a drums.__

__It was impossible not to be caught up in the hysterical atmosphere of victory as the whole presidium was filled with people in the throes of celebration. They were jostled, hugged and pawed at. Wrex and Garrus were trying to keep the throngs away from their Commander, but it was impossible while constantly being asked for handshakes and receiving congratulatory shoulder slaps from security and military personnel. Hundreds of thank yous, blessings, questions and praises were making their destination in C-Sec seemed farther and farther away.__

__Just when it seemed like there was a break in the crowd, a mass of alliance soldiers surrounded them. Shepard winced as they lifted her onto their shoulders and the crowd howled with approval. __

"__The saviour of the citadel!" one of the soldiers yelled and the horde erupted again.__

__Wrex was laughing as only a krogan can, as Garrus tried to follow Shepard through the masses of people. Before he realized it, he was being hefted up above the crowd with her. His arms went out as he almost lost his balance. Over the cheers, he caught her singing human voice, light and smooth ____–____ it was her laughter that filled his ears. He turned to see Shepard smiling at him, her arms raised as the crowd whooped.__

__Suddenly he felt that feeling again. Something strange and warm tugging at his heart and he felt his mandibles flaring back at her. "Garrus!" She was calling his name as they rode the tide of people. He hadn't realized he was laughing was with her ____–____ releasing his relief, stress, and joy of overcoming such staggering odds.__

__It took them an hour to make it to C-Sec where the mood was more subdued. Military and security teams were trying to contain the crowds so they could assess the damage and clear out any remaining geth. They received muted thanks from officers as families filed missing persons reports and comms crackled with damage evaluations. __

__When they finally stepped out of the Normandy airlock, they were greeted by cheers from the entire crew, standing shoulder to shoulder into the CIC. Shepard made her way to the top of the stairs overlooking the command centre, the pride she felt for her crew written in the smile on her face. Garrus and Wrex stood on either side of her as the crew settled, anticipating her to speak.__

"__Crew of the SSV Normandy!" She began, her words followed by howls and yells, the thunderous sound of the humans' fleshy hands clapping. Shepard's eyes were bright as she looked over her elated crew. She waited for a break in the noise so she could continue, her voice strong, emphatic ____–____ it was the voice of a great leader. "We looked into the abyss of overwhelming odds and total annihilation... and not only did we survive, we conquered! "__

__More howls and foot stomping, the humans were deafening. Garrus glanced down as he felt the floor beneath him tremble.__

"__This great victory was won with great sacrifice, so let's celebrate this tremendous occasion and remember the fallen." More cheers and shouts that were quickly shushed so the Commander could continue. __

"__You have all performed above and beyond the call of duty." Her voice was more solemn now. "Reinforcement and aid are already arriving from all corners of the galaxy ____–____ shore leave commences for the next four days..." Approving shouts. "Several groups are looking for volunteers for those of you who would like to help out. But until then, I've called in a few favours and tonight Flux will be hosting the Normandy crew and her guests. But of course, you are all free to join the spontaneous festivities in the presidium, just remember you are Alliance marines!"__

__The crew was a chattering, noisy mass as they pushed towards the airlock, omni tools raised as people shouted messages to friends and family. Garrus couldn't hide his surprise as the exiting Alliance crew shook his hand, slapped him on the shoulder and congratulated him.__

"__Garrus." The turian turned to see Kaidan coming up the stairs, his hand outstretched. Shocked, he took it. The biotic was smiling, "You're one hell of a soldier, even for a turian." He laughed, "and I'm glad you've been watching the Commander's back____…____ Let me buy you a drink at Flux."__

__Garrus nodded, "Yeah, alright." __

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__There was quite a crowd gathered outside the club, and Garrus had to weave his way up to the door. Security waved him through, and he slipped into the relative calm of Flux. She was easy to spot from across the room, the coloured lights reflecting off her pale skin and blonde hair like a drug induced aura. It seemed impossible to look away, like staring into the blinding Palaven sun, he realized he was just another object in the room captured in her power. The turian had stilled, as if approaching carefully stalked prey, his quarry's every move registering in some deeper, more primal part of his brain. __

__The thumping of the base from the dance floor on his right sounded the countdown to his approach. Shepard had stood from her seat in the corner and was giving Tali a hug. The graceful quarian was holding the Commander's hand and she was nodding. __

__It was something wholly irrational, this anxious feeling that was making his plates crawl. Ignoring the whispers of his body, Garrus carefully made his way over to his Commander's table. By the time he arrived, Tali had moved on and Shepard was seated and accepting the thanks of another Alliance Commander. Patiently, Garrus waited for the two to finish conversing.__

"__Commander?" he began, as the other man stepped away. Cheeks pink from alcohol, she straightened at hearing her title and gripped her drink a little more tightly. She looked up at the turian looming over her, an unusual smile stealing her lips as she leaned back in her chair.__

"__Garrus, What can I do for you?" Shepard, professional as always ____–____ even in a dark corner of Flux in the hours after saving the galaxy. __

"__Mind if I join you?" Garrus asked, proud of how casual he had sounded.__

__The seated woman pushed the chair across from her out from the table with her boot in casual invitation. "I would be honoured, Officer Vakarian."__

__It occurred to Garrus that this exchange would never happen if he had been serving aboard a turian ship. He would never have this kind of relationship or freedom with his commanding officer. Was this liberty afforded all human crews? Transfixed, the moment hung between them as Garrus tried to focus on speaking with her instead of the swirling emotions that had him so confused. __

__It must have been obvious to her that he was hesitating because she tried to give him a reassuring smile. __

"__Garrus, you just helped me defeat Saren, a legion of geth and a gigantic ship sized AI bent on destroying the galaxy... " Her smile grew and she took a quick sip of her drink, "speaking with me can't be that scary."__

__His laugh came out a little shaky, but she didn't seem to notice. If she did, she said nothing.__

"__Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.__

__Shepard laughed, "Get in line. You know how many people have asked me that since I got here? Fifty... no, probably more. If I accepted all of them I'd be passed out under this table. Besides, the tab is taken care of this evening." Even though it sounded like a refusal, she looked at the low level of her drink and shrugged, "but seeing as it is a request from my favourite turian, I can move you to the front of the line." __

__Garrus' mandibles flared and he turned to the bar. Why was it that when Shepard called him his favourite turian, he felt a little light headed? This was becoming something unprofessional, something unnatural____…____

__He fought his way up to the bar. It was busy enough that Doran, the volus owner, had brought in extra staff. He caught the attention of an old turian bartender who was already reaching for a couple of glasses.__

"__The Commander would like another one of those..." he pointed at the table and Shepard gave her nearly empty glass as shake, "and I'll have whatever the dextro amino based equivalent is."__

__The turian had white face tattoos that curled down over his nose and across his cracking cheek plates ____–____ Nirliedus colony if he had to guess. He set the two glasses down on the bar between them as his orange eyes looked beyond to where Shepard was accepting thanks from an asari official. As he poured the drinks he leaned forward, and Garrus automatically did the same. __

__"A little advice, friend - females like that are bad news." Garrus' brow plates came together as the older turian continued. "Play innocent if you want, but if I were you I would run. A fire like that will consume every inch of you and leave you scarred and aching for the rest of your life."__

_"I think you're mistaken," he muttered as he ___took the drinks and returned to the table. Again, he had to wait a moment for Shepard to finish with another well wisher. __

__It was more than a little disturbing to Garrus that he hadn't even realized he was displaying open attraction for Shepard ____–____ so much so that other turian males were picking up on it. Not good. He didn't even feel that way about her. They must be confusing his loyalty with lust.__

__Right?__

__Obligatory conversation with well wisher complete, they were alone once again.__

"__So Garrus, what brings you to your Commander's table tonight?"__

"__Thought you could use some company," he answered innocently as he set her glass down and took the seat across from her. Suspiciously, he regarded the dark liquid in his own glass. "Besides, after a battle like that, I wouldn't abandon you to listen to all this hero worship alone. Must be just awful for you," he muttered sarcastically into his glass.__

"__Is that so?" Shepard laughed through her words and Garrus felt oddly fulfilled by her happiness. "Well thank god you're here." __

__"We all know who took the final kill shot..." he added, and she laughed harder. She was relaxed, one leg draped over the other in that strange way only asari and humans could do. Over the thick fog of smells in the club, he picked up on her scent with its tender fragrance of soap, confessing the shower she had taken before arriving at the club. Armour was her choice of attire that night, which somehow seemed appropriate. He was finding it difficult to look her in the eye, that intense green gaze seemed to demand he confess every poor choice he had ever made, every secret, every dream... every desire.__

__She took a long drink. "Listen, Garrus, I think it's really great that you're going to rejoin C-Sec. Are you still planning to become a Spectre?"__

__Garrus looked back into the murky liquid in his glass. That had been the plan, but now all he wanted to do was stay on board the Normandy. He had been considering asking Shepard permission to stay, but she obviously approved of him rejoining C-Sec and becoming a Spectre. On the spot, he decided to follow through with his original plan. __

__The part of him that begged for her approval answered. "Yeah, I think I will. At the very least I can make a difference here." He watched her reaction carefully and was surprised at how unreadable it was. Was she... disappointed? Evidence of whatever secrets she was keeping disappeared with her pleased smile.__

"__Well, I think you'll make a great Spectre, Garrus. Just remember," her expression turned more serious, "you're only one person. Don't try to give an ocean direction."__

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It was the third time he had awoke in Shepard's quarters, and it was the worst by far. Garrus' face was damp from the drool that soaked the pillow, his eyes were sore and his hands stiff. His Commander's face - looking at him from the shoulders of the crowd on the presidium, smiling at him across the table in Flux... they were burned into the backs of his eye lids. Like an icy tsunami his senses returned, and he sat up quickly, filled with such a terrible sense of urgency that he almost fell out of Shepard's bed.

"EDI, anything?" her practically yelled in a gruff voice that sounded foreign to his own ears, talons running over his face as he stood. He already suspected what her answer would be, but he had to ask.

"I'm sorry Garrus, we have no new information regarding the Commander's location," the AI answered. A wave of nausea curled up in his stomach and he had to clench his fists and press his tongue to the roof of his mouth until it passed.

Finally, he glanced at his omni tool and his heart sank - forty-two hours and counting. He let out a fierce roar of frustration as he rammed his fist into wall beside Shepard's closet.

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"Anything?"

He didn't know why he even bothered to ask anymore. There was never a different answer. Joker was back in his chair, and although he didn't turn to look at the turian, Garrus knew the man still looked like hell. They certainly made a charming pair.

"Naw… we thought we found something about an hour ago, but it was just the remains of an old salarian probe that was sending intermittent low frequency transmissions." The pilot let out a sigh of frustration. "There is just so much god damn shit floating around in space. Too much interference... there is no way to get clear enough readings unless we're right on top of what we're looking for. I guess it really is a great place for a secret base."

Frustration and despair were palpable on the ship. Every conversation was about the whereabouts of Commander Shepard, the future of the mission... how each moment they didn't hear from her tipped the balance in favour of her never returning alive. They had all be holding their breaths, but eventually they would have to exhale and move on.

Not knowing was the worst part.

The last two days had disappeared in a blur. How many times could Garrus pace the CIC? How many times could he wander up to her cabin and look at her things? How many times could he slide into a seat in the cockpit and search rock after rock for any sign of life? How many nights could he go on not knowing where she was or what had happened to her?

He had lost count as he sat down in the leather chair. If she was truly gone… he hadn't thought that far ahead. She had made him promise to continue the fight, finish the mission. He couldn't be her. He had tried once before and look at what that had accomplished. There was so much more at stake now – damn her for making him promise.

Joker had said nothing when Garrus took up his now familiar seat beside the pilot. The motivation to start scanning just wasn't there. He was dreading the hours of negative results that loomed in his immediate future. He raised his hands to begin, but instead his eyes drifted out the window to the sea of rock that seemed to stretch on forever.

__Come on Shepard, give us a sign.__

EDI's constant blue suddenly twitched beside them.

"I'm picking up massive thruster readings from an asteroid approximately point five parsecs from our current location."

"Joker." Garrus had no reason to elaborate as the pilot's fingers were already moving with renewed life.

"I'm on it."

"There is something else," the AI began. Joker and Garrus nodded absently in acknowledgement, both more focused on the displays in front of them. "Based on the speed and trajectory of the asteroid, it will be impacting the mass relay in one hour, three minutes and twenty-two seconds.

Both sets of hands stilled. Joker and Garrus turned and looked at the display EDI had projected showing the asteroid and its intended path to the mass relay. Joker's voice held little humour.

"EDI, seriously?"

"My calculations are accurate, Mr Moreau."

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"We just don't have enough information."

Garrus was getting tired of this shit – tired of listening to Miranda force her will on all of them.

"When that rock hits the mass relay, the ensuing shock wave will destroy the whole system. That's more than three hundred thousand people dead." Tali's voice was urgent. At least someone seemed to be taking this as seriously as him.

"We need to send in a team." Garrus couldn't understand why he had to point out the obvious all the time.

"Let's look at the facts. We know that this was a project started by Alliance personnel. We know they have a reaper artifact It also appears that they were working for some time on installing thrusters on the asteroid, because that's not something that happens over night." Miranda looked around the comm. room as she spoke.

"If they have reaper tech in that compound then how do we know the people in the base haven't been indoctrinated? Maybe the artifact is making them destroy the mass relay," Jacob's words were quick and clipped. They were all impatient to reach agreement so they could move on some form of action.

EDI's blue orb appeared beside the image of the asteroid in the centre of the comm. room. "I have new information. It appears as though someone is attempting to overload the reactor core. This would destroy the asteroid and prevent the theoretical destruction of the system."

"Indoctrination takes time," Mordin was motioning wildly with his hands. "Installed thrusters, programmed trajectory VI program and shuttles all suggest that original plan was to destroy mass relay with the asteroid. Completing plan must be opposed by Reapers. Would assume Commander was subdued upon arriving at base, but is now attempting to complete project. Must be facing opposition from indoctrinated individuals."

"But the batarian colony..." Tali looked around at the team, "Shepard would never sacrifice so many lives."

"There must be some sort of time restriction we are unaware of," Thane added, speaking to the room in his familiar steady tone. "Knowing the risks, Commander Shepard would not have restarted the project without notifying the colonists unless there was no other choice."

"As it stands now, there is no way they could be evacuated in time," Miranda chimed in.

"There must be a significant threat if the Commander is willing to sacrifice the lives of three hundred thousand innocents," Samara added, looking at Tali, but the quarian seemed unconvinced.

"Enough talk, we need to send in a team," Garrus interjected, becoming noticeably impatient. The other members of the team were giving him concerned glances.

"No, we track the asteroid and wait for the Commander to contact us." Miranda crossed her arms, physically preparing herself for the impending verbal onslaught. "We can give her as much time as possible, then hit the relay before impact."

Garrus brought his fist down the edge of the oval table, startlingly a few team members. "That's not good enough. We can't just leave her on that rock." He was furious - they finally knew where she was and so far their big plan was to just talk and do nothing.

"Our presence may compromise whatever is already happening down there, and we are not going to risk more lives than is necessary," Miranda answered with forced calm in her voice. "We still have to go after the collectors."

Garrus couldn't hide his disgust. "Half the people in this room will only fight the collectors with Commander Shepard's lead." The looks from around the room backed him claim. Voice flanging angrily, he looked back at Miranda. "If it were any one of us down there, she would not leave us behind."

EDI's voice was a welcome interruption for more than a few people in the room. "It appears that the reactor core temperature has been returned to acceptable operational parameters. I am currently tracking several shuttles that are evacuating the base and heading for the relay."

"This is ridiculous," Garrus announced as he stepped away from the projected images in the centre of the room, "I'm going in."

"I'll come with you," Tali added, as she moved to follow him. "I owe Shepard my life."

"I will come also," Thane agreed as he looked Garrus in the eye and nodded.

"No one is going anywhere," Miranda insisted, her body practically shaking, her voice losing its cool edge as her ability to command slipped through her fingers before her very eyes. "There is no time for a search of the compound before it hits the relay!"

"I don't have time for this," Garrus muttered, as he turned abruptly to Tali and Thane, "Get your gear, we'll meet at the airlock." He felt his heart start to race, his breath turning shallow. Finally they were taking action.

Ignoring the turmoil in the comm. room, EDI continued to report on the situation. "The last shuttle has left the landing pad. I am also detecting weapons fire in the same area."

"She's stuck down there," he whispered urgently to himself.

"Dammit Vakarian, there is no time!" Miranda's yelled, but her voice carried no weight with the three would be rescuers, were already heading into the armoury.

Gear on and weapons loaded, their running boots soon echoed up the CIC as they heading for the airlock. Garrus glanced out the cockpit window to see how near they were and his heart skipped a beat. The compound was coming up fast beneath them... and beyond, the mass relay was already so close, its blinding white blue glow continuously growing as the asteroid rocketed towards it.

"Joker, we're going in, bring us around and—"

_-Shepard to Normandy, Joker, do you read me?-_

And there she was. Her voice filled the cockpit and Garrus was sure his knees would buckle. She only sounded mildly concerned, but someone who really knew her would catch the foreign tremble in her words.

"Commander, we're inbound for pickup," the crewman seated beside Joker replied.

-Roger that—

Joker was frowning in concentration. "Pick-ups off giant asteroids that are being hurled into mass relays with an imminent threat of total solar system destruction? I knew I shouldn't have skipped that class at flight school!"

Tali, Thane and Garrus were all gathered at the window now, looking down at the shuttle platform. He spotted her immediately, her armour glinting in the bright glare of the relay. "There she is! What is… " his voice trailed off as he caught sight of the giant, translucent, holographic object projected in front of her before it suddenly disappeared.

"Keelah... was that...?"

She had spotted them and was running for the ship, the edge of the platform came up close and he heard a thump as she landed in the airlock. There were a few tense moments until the inner airlock doors flew open and she stormed out. Garrus had to catch himself from grabbing her right there and pulling her to him. Breezing past her would be rescuers, she leaned over the pilot's chair.

"Get us out of here Joker!"

Speeding ahead of the hurtling rock, the Normandy pulled up to the mass relay and was flung out of the system. Satisfied they were safe, Shepard rushed down the CIC to the galaxy map. Tali, Garrus and Thane followed her cautiously, their concerned faces watching her rushed movements.

"EDI display the shock wave on the galaxy map."

"Yes Commander."

Everyone in the CIC couldn't help but watch as their Commander leaned heavily on the railing over the galaxy map. She was staring hard at the spot they had just left. Face hidden by the helmet she still wore, her eyes were dark behind the visor. There was a small flash from the location of the mass relay, and as the shock wave engulfed each planet in the system her head dropped. Hundreds of thousands of breaths were stilled in that moment, their existence burned away in a fireball from which the Normandy had barely escaped.

There was a long, nauseating silence that followed, filled only with the subtle beeps of nearby consoles. Frozen in time, all eyes watched their Commander, unmoving from her perch in front of the map. The tension was broken when Tali took a cautious step towards the command platform, her voice gentle.

"Shepard, maybe you should see Doctor Chakwas."

She didn't move at first, and Tali looked as though she might repeat herself when Shepard let out a long breath. Giving the galaxy map one more wary look, she turned away from everyone, pulled off her helmet and started for the elevator.

"Commander, we have an Alliance vessel inbound, they are requesting permission for shuttle docking," Joker announced over the comm.

She paused, slack arm holding her helmet at her side, her head tilting up as if his very words were draining her strength to stand. Then she nodded, seemingly to herself before she responded. "Granted. I will be in the med bay."

Like her shadow, Garrus followed behind her has she took the last few steps to the elevator, trying to see if there was any evidence of her time away. He slipped in beside her just as the doors slid closed. In the solitude of the lift, he gave into his unrelenting emotions and pulled Shepard to him in a fierce embrace. Their armour clinked and a breath rushed out of her as he squeezed, the side of his face pressing into her hair.

"Shepard," his whisper was somewhere between a prayer and a plea. She slid off a glove and he felt a cool hand fall gently on his neck. __Real__, she was real and he had her back. Jaw clenched, he fought to hold in the tormented sob that threatened to escape him. Relief and anger translated in the desperate way his heavy breaths rustled her hair, talons scraping anxiously against her armoured back. They just held one another, absorbing the others' presence as a though falling at the banks of an oasis after days in a desert.

Without warning Garrus released his hold on her just as the doors opened to deck three. She deflated before him, her feet shifting as though his embrace had been the only thing holding her up. They stood for a moment in the lift, Shepard seemingly unable to meet his gaze, the world pressing in around them with renewed force. Just once Garrus wished things could be easy for them.

Wordlessly she stepped past him and headed towards the med bay.

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	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

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Shepard's return had breathed new life back into the very soul of the ship. It could be felt by everyone – in the way the air seemed electrified, how all their daily activities became important and meaningful once again. Her presence allowed the crew to heave a collective sigh of relief. The mission would go on.

The mess hall was surprisingly quiet. Even Gardner seemed to be busy elsewhere, and Garrus found himself taking the man's spot in the kitchenette. Only he wasn't going to be serving food. Setting down his helmet, the relieved turian leaned heavily on his forearms as he stared through the med bay windows.

Garrus' heart had leapt the moment her familiar aroma had tickled his nostrils. Assaulted by the smoky tang of explosive residue and the salty-sweet of human sweat mixed with the strange odour of narcotics that seemed to be seeping from her pores – it still had not been enough to mask her scent. Soft hair on his face, smooth padded fingers on his neck - spirits, he could have held her for an eternity.

A strange thing had happened when Shepard entered the med bay. Garrus had expected an appearance of Commander Shepard the untouchable – a model of resilience and professionalism, the invincible woman who would brush off the doctor's concerns, dismiss the severity of any injuries and leave in an impressive display of military stoicism. But the woman he was looking at now was an imposter. She just stood inside the door, like a perfectly rendered statue made of paper than might blow over at any moment. It wasn't until Chakwas approached her and placed a hand on her shoulder that she seemed to come alive again. Even though she looked unhurt, her pain was tangible, her every look, every movement exposing her bloodless wounds.

The two women were speaking, but to Garrus their words and questions were reduced to simply moving lips behind glass. He had heard that human and asari lips could be read, and what he would have given to have that skill now. Turian lips were rather stiff, the words of their native tongue were heavy on Ss, soft Ts and guttural sounds accentuated by their tongues – not humans though. Their lips were docile and animated as they conveyed words, emotions, even physical sensations. Since he was not privy to their conversation, Garrus would have to rely on their body language to tell the story.

Shepard, accepting the supportive touch of the doctor, let her shoulders slump as her left hand ran wearily over her face. Chakwas took the helmet that was still held firmly in the Commander's other hand and led her over to one of the beds. She pointed at Shepard's armour, and after a moment of hesitation the Commander relinquished control and accepted the other woman's help. As they peeled back the layers of protection, they exchanged very few words. When the armour was off, the doctor reluctantly passed Shepard a datapad, which she immediately began tapping away at.

__Already logging your mission report?__ Garrus thought to himself. Still so professional, even after who knows what she had been through. Two days. What could have happened? Where had she been? What secrets were hiding behind those restless green eyes?

Talons curled involuntarily as frustration bubbled up in Garrus' throat. How could she have gone on that mission alone? Did she not realize what was at stake? The turian had to force himself to take a deep breath and calm down. Being belligerent and over protective wasn't going to help anything.

While Shepard was still focused on the datapad, Chakwas continued to help her undress. As she pulled the tight black shirt Shepard wore under her armour over her head the doctor paused. Garrus felt his breath catch. The Commander, suddenly sensing the other woman's hesitation, followed her gaze to her shoulder.

Slowly and deliberately, Shepard set down the data pad as Dr. Chakwas pulled her bra strap aside and began to inspect the bite. The doctor looked concerned and questioning as she probed the wounds with her fingers. Whatever she was saying caused Shepard's head to turn, and Garrus found himself staring into his lovers disconcerting eyes. Immediately he felt exposed, the doctor's gaze following the Commander's to where the turian was planted against the counter in the mess hall.

Deer in the headlights, he had heard Shepard say once before – this must be what she meant. He could only stare back at them blankly, uneasiness gripping him just as it had that moment he had stood beside her table in Flux years ago. Finally Chakwas said something and Shepard looked away from him and shrugged. Speaking much more animatedly now, the Commander was shaking her head as she picked the datapad back up.

Was she defending him? Was the doctor quizzing her on where she had gotten the bites? - not that it wasn't already completely obvious to everyone. Once again it occurred to Garrus how inappropriate this all was. He and Shepard… how had he blurred the lines so badly between imagination and reality? There was definitely passion between them, but she had been very clear - she didn't know how much of herself she could give.

Any amount was better than none, but anything less than all would be torture.

Chakwas picked up something nearby but whatever it was, Shepard held up her hand and refused it. Begrudgingly the doctor surrendered, leaving Shepard to her mission report while she fetched another uniform.

There was a small sound and Garrus was startled to find Thane standing not more than a few steps away. The sound hadn't been an accident – the drell had purposely alerted Garrus to his presence. In his mind he added another point to the score board of times Thane had snuck up on him without his knowledge. The whole idea that the drell could be, at any moment, creeping up behind him or dropping down from the ceiling was disturbing and it irked him to no end each time he proved how easy it was.

Thane's dark eyes betrayed none of the pleasure Garrus was sure he was feeling – no doubt it was common knowledge between them how his sneaking annoyed the turian. Instead, the drell's eyes were fixed towards the med bay, his expression reflecting controlled concern. "How is she?"

__Now that seemed like a ridiculous question.__

"Seeing as an entire system was destroyed, I doubt she's in high spirits," Garrus snapped.

Thane's eyes narrowed but never left their focus on the med bay. "Garrus, we do not have to be enemies."

"No, we don't. That doesn't mean I have to like you."

The drell disregarded Garrus' last comment, cocking his head to the side slightly as he considered whatever information he was gleaning from his observations. "She seems deceptively calm, I suspect she is hurting inside… Let her know I am available to talk if she desires." Thane's voice was soft, his dark eyes catching Garrus' for only a moment before he turned to leave. As the drell walked away he nodded to Gardner, who was just emerging from the elevator. Garrus pushed himself away from the island and leaned back against the rear counter as the human joined him in the kitchenette and started rummaging through the mess storage.

"Vakarian," the human muttered in acknowledgement and the turian nodded absently. Gardner looked over at where Garrus had been leaning, the light catching a couple of tiny scratches on the counter where the turian's talons had been flexing anxiously.

"You're not wrecking up my kitchen are you?"

Garrus glanced at the faint marks in the metal composite. "Not intentionally," he assured him. The human's face was only mockingly annoyed, and the attempt to lighten the atmosphere was welcome. "Sorry."

Garrus had begun to like Gardner. The older man seemed to be at peace with his life, had some interesting stories, and was pretty good at sizing up situations. From the forward batteries, Garrus had often overheard the human crew telling stories, joking around, or purposely provoking each other – something humans seemed prone to doing. More often than not, innocent discussions would escalate to arguing, everyone having their own opinions and vehemently defending their reasoning. How humans got anything accomplished was a complete mystery to Garrus. But Gardner, he always seemed to be able to rein them in and deflate even the tensest situations.

The mess sergeant's wrinkled eyes looked over at the med bay, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Is it true that the Commander destroyed an entire system? Over three hundred thousand batarians…?"

Garrus folded his arms, finally looking away from the med bay. "I'm sure the Commander did what was necessary. She would never take such a decision lightly." He didn't actually have many details about what happened, but he still felt like he needed to defend her actions, whatever the motives had been.

"Of course, I have complete faith in her," the older man agreed, his expression sympathetic. "It's just... how do you come to terms with something like that? Takes a strong person to be able to live with those kinds of decisions."

"She'll come out of it ok... that's why she's a Commander. " Why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself?

"You know, if she's been gone for two days, she's probably pretty hungry." Gardner's head disappeared under the counter. "Comfort food. That's what she needs."

Somehow Garrus didn't think food would be enough to fix this.

They both heard the elevator doors open, and Gardner, who was still rummaging, peeked over the counter. From the small kitchen they watched in astonishment as an Alliance admiral walked briskly into the med bay.

"Holy hell, I think that's Admiral Hackett," the cook hissed under his breath, ducking down out of sight.

"Really?" Garrus straightened up, catching the man's eye as he passed by. Finally, a face to attach to the voice he had heard Shepard conversing with on-board the SR1. Garrus studied the man as he stepped through the med bay doors and nodded to Dr Chakwas who nodded back and left. He looked like a stern man - shorter than Garrus had expected, older, and obviously battle hardened. His scarred face a study in creases, his frowning eyes pinned Shepard with a hard look. Sliding off the bed, she straightened her uniform as she faced her past superior and gave him a formal salute.

The Admiral looked agitated as she handed him the data pad she had been abusing, but he didn't give it more than a glance. Even without sound, the encounter was easy to decipher. Garrus could practically hear Shepard defending her decision and the unfortunate sacrifice of so many civilian lives, but there was more to this obviously, because the Admiral was still visibly upset. In the end, he passed the datapad back to her, and with a few parting words he left the way he'd come.

All at once, the anger and frustration that had been ruling him for days drained away and Garrus suddenly felt horribly selfish. The mission would always be more important to Shepard than he was, and that was the way it should be. It occurred to him as he watched his Commanding officer standing alone in the med bay, eyes on her feet, why he had conjured her spirit all those nights alone after her death.

She had been the embodiment of his honour, his will to keep fighting. Now she was the spirit of her legion of elite operatives – the very essence of the galaxy's struggle to continue to exist, whether they realized it or not.

His turian sense of honour demanded that he push his own desires aside and offer her whatever he could. If tearing himself open and letting her feast on his flesh meant she could continue to live and fight for the existence of trillions, he wouldn't think twice - although he hoped that such acts would remain confined to turian mythology. Looking down, he brushed a talon over the small plates on the back of his right hand, lingering on the long arrow shaped central plate in the middle…

If it meant fulfilling her goals, he would try to be everything she needed, anything she wanted, and whatever she desired. It was almost as if Shepard had heard the silent vow he had just made in his head, because she looked up and their eyes met. Heat rippled across his skin and Garrus felt himself slipping, drowning.

Thane had been right about the power she held, and now it was too late. He had been swallowed by the tides of a terrific ocean, her currents pulling him under until he was completely enclosed within her consuming reality.

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__An impatient talon tapped against the desk. It had been only a few days since he had left the Normandy, but he was feeling a definite sense of restlessness. Never would he have imagined that a person could become so accustomed to a daily routine of dangerous mission, strange worlds and hours spent tinkering with the Mako.__

__He glanced down at the screen, which blinked.__

__-Waiting for connection____…____-__

__-PALAVEN.5.75434-__

__-SUCCESS-__

__The image flickered and a familiar face appeared, cracking plates and similar blue tattoos, the old turian's mandibles flared.__

"__Garrus!"__

"__Dad," he replied as he sat back his chair. It was good to see his father, but it didn't change the fact that he had been avoiding this conversation for the past week.__

__Drusus Vakarian was a well respected and decorated turian, and one would know it simply by talking to him. How he held his chin and the look in his eyes spoke of a fierce determination and will that had not been diminished by age or retirement.__

"__Son, good to hear from you," the older turian answered, shifting in his seat as he made himself comfortable. "The family is so proud of the work you did helping to take down Saren. Damn spectres." He cocked his head to the side, and Garrus naturally expected the question that followed. "An old friend of mine said he saw you back at C-Sec?"__

"__Starting in a few days actually. How's mom?"__

__Drusus let out a sigh. Garrus was fully aware that his mother's health was a topic where his father was most likely to blur the truth. "She's doing well - more good days than bad, thankfully. Sol wishes you would come home more often, but I remind her about the important work you are doing." __

"__Yeah..." Garrus replied guiltily. He was starting to remember why he hated these conversations. They always made him feel like he was wrong to be living off world. That no matter how much good he was doing, he was still letting his family down in some capacity, especially since Solana had given up so much to help with their mother. The next words he spoke were the ones he had been dreading the most, knowing they wouldn't bring any joy to his father's eyes ."I've decided to reapply for spectre training."__

__Drusus crossed his arms, his eyes brow plates coming together in an all too familiar look of poorly contained disapproval.__

"__Really."__

__No turning back now____…____

"__I was working with a spectre when I helped defeat Saren." Garrus felt himself speaking a little faster, as if he had to get the words out before his father's protests began. "She is an honourable and fearless soldier - she showed me a lot and I think I can really make a difference."__

__Garrus' father seemed to be considering this. "She____…____ Right, that human spectre____…____ Shepard. Saw her all over the news vids after the battle." The older turian leaned back in his chair. "You know how I feel about spectres, Garrus."__

"__I know, but Shepard isn't like that" Why did he always feel he had to justify everything he did? "She has a strict moral code ____–____ she gets the job done without sacrificing innocent lives. The loyalty she inspires in the people she commands, her incredible skill on the battle field and her tremendous sense of honour____…____ I've never met anyone like her."__

"__Garrus."__

__He continued to talk, hoping that he could avoid the impending lecture. "She thinks I would make a great spectre." __

"__Garrus."__

"__I really think this could be the path for me."__

"__GARRUS." His father's raised voice had its desired effect, and the younger turian's explanations died in his throat. He was unprepared for what his father said next. "She's human." __

"__Well, yeah____…____". Where was this going? Garrus had been ready to argue dozens of points, but he hadn't prepared for an impromptu debate on the worth of humans as a species.__

"__You're a Vakarian, Garrus. Our family is not deviant."__

_"Wait, w___hat?" Garrus choked out the words. Had his father just called him... deviant? "It not like that at all, I____…____"__

"__Please," Drusus dismissed his protests with a wave of his hand. "I think I know my own son." Deliberately he folded his hands together. "It's a good thing your mother doesn't know about this. Her only son..." The old turian was shaking his head. "Of all the worthy females you've been with, to think it took a fragile human to turn that stubborn head of yours."__

"__She's not fragile, and she's not... turning my head, Spirits, Dad, I respect her and I would be lucky to be half the spectre she is." Garrus was so flustered he was stumbling over his words.__

_Drusus nodded. "Ok Garrus. L___ook, I just want you to know that we are very proud of you... but don't forget what happened to your grandfather. Humans are not compatible mates. Have your fun, but remember who you are."__

__Garrus knew it would be unwise to pursue that topic any further, even if his father had it all wrong, he'd just end up digging himself in deeper and deeper. It was a safer bet to just end the conversation completely. "Sure Dad, tell Mom and Sol I say hi."__

"__I will. Talk to you again soon."__

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As he stood at Shepard's door, Garrus was reminded of something his mother had once told him. She had said that doors were like mirrors, that they said a lot about people and the relationship that existed between them. Whenever he had found himself at a door he was unsure about opening he thought of her.

This door was one Garrus had been at more times in the past few days than the rest of his time aboard the Normandy combined. It was a gateway that stood silent witness to his anguish and the unnatural lust that drove him and his Commander together. Now it was telling him to stay out. Encrypted... no, double encrypted... actually triple encrypted. They were clear warnings, and they screamed at him to return the way he'd come. But surely she would have known he would be able to hack the door. Like turian bodies impaled on stakes along the war path during the krogan rebellions, it suggested both a warning and a dare. Let it be known that Garrus Vakarian was never one to refuse any sort of challenge.

He had changed his clothes, not really knowing what to expect – other than understanding the incompatibility of a soft human body against bulky turian armour. A few more taps at the door controls and if flickered green. Enter into the dragon's layer.

Shuffling the tray of food back into both hands, Garrus poked his head into the dark room. The place hadn't been torn apart; perhaps that was a good sign? Or maybe it was just the calm before the storm. It all felt like unfamiliar territory to him – no, he knew Shepard, carnally sure, but he KNEW her... didn't he?

The shower was on, but the rest of the place was quiet. All the lights were off except for the fish tank, which cast its haunting blue glow across the floor.

*thump* *thump*

Garrus' head snapped to the right, an instinctual response to the sounds coming from inside the bathroom. Closing the gap between, he set the tray of food on the desk and pulled off his visor so he could press his good ear against the bathroom door. Nothing.

He glanced back at the food. Why did it feel like he was bringing an offering to the lair of a great demon? Something dark and terrible lay in wait for him, and it would either accept his offerings and reward him beyond his wildest dreams… or flay him alive and leave his corpse as a warning for the next person foolish enough to approach. He had been given so much already, he didn't want to ruin it.

"Shepard?" he called tentatively through the door.

The water continued to run, but the stillness inside the bathroom seemed to be listening intently. Then a strange sound, like a breath being squeezed out of beaten body, before the tension broke. "Go away Garrus." Her voice was muffled as though she spoke with her face pressed against the wall.

"Talk to me." Garrus stood close to the door and listened hard for an idea of what was going on inside the tiny room.

"I'm fine…" She answered, and she almost sounded convincing, but he knew her well enough now to hear the effort in her voice. "I just need some time... please leave." It was those last words that gave her away.

He sighed and pressed his forehead against the cool door, closing his eyes. Let the battle of wills begin.

"Well I'm not going to, so you can either talk to me or forcibly remove me." Both worrisome options, but he was almost hoping she would choose the latter.

"I don't have the strength to do this right now. Please Garrus…"

She sounded awful, her voice raw and raspy. Never before had he heard her like this. His analysis came to an abrupt halt as he caught a whiff of something that was always guaranteed to make his stomach twist into knots of dread. It was iron, the signature smell of human blood – more importantly, Shepard's blood. A bolt of worry brought his talons frantically to the door control.

Inside he was greeted with a deceptively placid sight. Uniform dumped in a pile on the floor, Shepard was leaning against the wall under the steaming shower, her back to him. His eyes couldn't help but linger on the red semi circle of dots on her shoulder, before curiously taking in the unfamiliar bright pink colour of her skin. His attention was drawn to the slight tremble of her right hand, and Garrus caught sight of the trickle of red tinted water that fell from her finger tips.

She didn't turn to look at him. At least she wasn't 'forcibly removing him'… yet.

"God damn you, Garrus, Why can't you follow orders?" She hissed. He was taken aback by how furious she suddenly sounded. It wasn't exactly the greeting he was hoping for.

He took a step towards her, his jaw clenching. "Spirits Shepard, what have you been doing to yourself?" He stepped into the spray of the shower as he grabbed her arm and twisted her around. Turning her hand, his eyes ran down her arm as he searched for the source of the blood. She attempted to tug away from him, but he tightened his grasp enough that she was unable to. Inspecting her hands he discovered the raw skin on her knuckles, the cuts running jagged angry lines through the thin flesh. Past her, the wall was smeared pink where the hot water and steam were washing away the evidence of the battle she had been waging with her immovable opponent. It didn't take a C-Sec investigator to know what she had been doing.

Shepard was looking at him now, red eyes and clumping lashes. If she were shedding any tears, they were lost in the rivulets of water that chased the curves of her cheeks where flecks of bright orange glowed through the reopened scars. Her expression had darkened and was now a mask of barely concealed rage, daring him to comment. This encounter seemed destined to end either with fists or hugs… and he really didn't know which it would be – or even which was better. Anger seemed like a better choice, at least then he would know she still felt something, still cared. She was definitely looking for a confrontation, any excuse to lash out at something other than the wall she had been abusing before he arrived.

As willing as he may have been to allow her to pound away at his plated chest, he decided that it wouldn't really solve anything. Carefully he reached for her hands and captured them between his, curling his talons around them protectively. In a moment her shoulder relaxed, eyes closed, and he saw her release a breath.

"Damn you Garrus... Damn you for seeing me like this." Her voice was so quiet that he found he was holding his breath just so he could hear her over the shower. When her eyes reopened, her gaze seemed to disappear into the distance behind him. "My ears are still ringing… it sounds like children screaming. Thousands of children. I know they aren't screaming any more, but I can still hear them."

Shepard's brow knit together and her gazed returned to him for only second before she yanked her hands from his grasp. She let out an anguished yell as she swung her arm around, her hand balled up and aiming for the wall. In a quick movement, Garrus caught her by the elbow, her shaking fist halted just before it struck the blood smeared wall.

The anger that crept into his voice couldn't be helped. "Why are you doing this? I read the report. It was tragic, yes, but you did exactly what needed to be done. So why this self punishment?"

She pulled away from him. Damn she was strong – it was something he was constantly underestimating.

Finger raised accusingly, her nakedness did not in the least hindering her ability to intimidate him as she spoke. "You think you can come in here and lecture me on how I should be feeling?"

"You want to talk about feelings? I didn't know where you were for two days. You didn't even tell me you were leaving - I had to find out from the damn AI!"

Shepard stepped partially out from underneath the spray of water and leaned against the wall, her head tilting back as she looked down her nose at him, her eyes barely peeking over her lower lids. "It's not that simple" her voice had almost completely lost the force it'd had only moments before.

The water had finally reached every dry bit of clothing Garrus had on, the heavy fabric clinging to him as he shook his head at her. "The mission through the omega 4 relay is supposed to be the damn suicide mission, Shepard. You're not invincible, despite what you might think."

"Maybe not," she whispered, closing her eyes, her hands running down her face and neck before dropping to her sides. "Hackett asked me to go in alone."

"Then he's an idiot."

"God damn it Garrus!" The base of Shepard's fist hit the wall angrily as she pushed herself off it, bringing her face towards the turian's, her arms raised dramatically. "Three hundred thousand people died, and you're pissed off because you couldn't tag along?"

"No, Shepard," he leaned closer to her, her breasts rubbing across the front of his soaked shirt. "I'm pissed off because you threw yourself into the fray again, alone. Our strength is in the group… how the hell would we be able to fight the collectors without you?" Garrus closed his eyes, the pain of the previous two days bubbling up to the surface and warring with the delicious closeness he had been yearning for since she had disappeared. "You're not disposable Shepard. You could have at least told me you were going."

"You know why I didn't tell you…"

"Because I wouldn't have let you go alone? Damn right I wouldn't have." He pushed up against her momentarily as he hit the shower controls, the hot water coming to an abrupt stop. He could feel her breath on his face, see her pulse under the thin skin of her neck. The tension was almost too much.

__Come on Vakarian, keep it in your pants__.

Her eyes drifted down to his mouth as she spoke. "Garrus, if we weren't fucking, would you have really tried to stop me?" The question took him by surprise; the way she said that word and her unreadable expression were no help. He took a step back, breaking their momentary connection.

"Is that all we've been doing? Fucking?" He spat the word back at her, and she crossed her arms, looking away. Was she ashamed or disgusted, he couldn't tell.

Almost on its own, Garrus felt his left hand come up and two talons dragged a slow line down her arm. To feel her skin again, perhaps for the last time if she chose to push him away. But she didn't, and his eyes fluttered at how deceitfully thrilling it was. His touch had been meant to be comforting, but instead it became the catalyst that turned the hurt and pain they were both feeling into something much more desperate.

"When I touch you…" His other set of talons brushed against the smooth flesh of her stomach, sliding up towards her breasts. "Is it only the physical sensation that moves you?"

"Garrus." She stuck out her jaw, as though she might turn him away, but instead she seemed to gradually give into his advance as he backed her towards the wet wall. There was a soft thud as she made contact.

"When I press myself against you," his large hands reached around and covered her lower back as he pressed their hips together, her skin warm and damp. "Am I just a faceless male you can find release with?"

Her chest was heaving and her lips parted in that way that he had memorized from their previous times together. So human, so Shepard, he had begun to realize that her body whispered a million unknown truths to him with every breath, every movement, every twitch.

"When I fill you…" She shivered as he brought his face to her neck, his voice low and flanging, brushing his teeth over the fading bites. "Does our joining not bring you some sense of peace?"

Shepard abruptly let out a huff as she grabbed his face, laying a wet, open mouth kiss over his closed mouth. Her lips burned a hot trail as they moved over his nose and up to his forehead. Moving away from his face, her hands had reached down and were frantically grabbing at his clothes, tearing at the clasps and buttons. Garrus, listening only to his carnal needs and not thinking of the mechanics of the act, looped his hands under her rear and propped her up roughly against the wall, bracing his knees beneath her. Face dropping down to her breasts, his long tongue raked over her chilled pink nipples. He could feel Shepard's nose press into the ridges of his fringe, her breath escaping in warm bursts. A rumbling purr filled his chest as she rested her damp cheek on top of his head. Her wet hair was cool against his skin, her hands moving across the soft flesh of his neck and the row of plates that ran down his spine.

"When we come together.." His voice was barely more than a growl. Reaching between them, his index talon gently sliding between her legs and they sighed in unison as he slipped across her slick folds. "Doesn't this life feel a little less futile?"

Shepard's left arm encircled his cowl, pulling him closer as her right hand flexed repeatedly against his neck. Garrus felt her thighs tighten around him and he quickly released himself from the confines of his pants and pressed himself against her. She was murmuring unintelligibly above him, lips brushing against his head as her fingers danced across his fringe – whatever the words were, they were too garbled for his translator to pick up. He drew a long blue tongue along her collar bone as she shifted herself above him. In one strong movement he was inside her, both releasing sounds of urgent satisfaction. Another long lick crossed her throat as he braced one arm on the wall beside her and began pushing earnestly against her.

The hurt, need, and fear of the last two days culminated in the intensity Garrus focused on feeling every part of her – the way she clenched like a vice around him, her hips urging him on, her hands finding all the soft places within her reach. Teeth scraped against the plates on the top of his head as her mouth opened in gasped moans, her fingers curling around the points of his crest. All her worries, fears, regrets… he would help her forget… if only for a few frantic moments.

Talons dug into the flesh of her rear as his upper teeth rested on her collar bone, hot breath puffing against her damp, flushed skin with every insistent thrust. Each hard movement demanded she yield to him - and judging by the way her arms were entwined around his head, holding him tightly to her, hips grinding against him - he knew it wouldn't be much longer.

But there was something else… As they desperately connected against her bathroom wall, Garrus felt a hot wetness on the top of his head. His nose twitched and over the intoxicating aroma of their sex his distracted mind registered a different smell. Salty, but not sweet like perspiration… something else… it reminded him of their time laughing in Eternity. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly as he absorbed the pain of her nails digging into his flesh. She jerked around him as she let out a stifled cry, her violent ecstasy driving him on furiously, his legs cramping with the strain. Only wet hair and hot breath he told himself - he was too close to imagine that he was possibly bringing her to tears.

"Sheparrrd…" He purred her name as a few more frenzied thrusts brought him release, spilling himself inside as he arched against her. Legs shaking and senses cloudy with pleasure, his head fell back and Garrus looked up into green eyes. Shepard's expression was visible for only a brief moment before the shower came on in his face and he was forced to blink against the onslaught. In the midst of his climax he must have hit the controls, and now the water was soaking them both - again.

He could feel her hands on his cheeks, the closeness of her face, but when he tried to open his eyes they only filled with water. Worse was when he squeezed them closed all he could see was her face, that moment before the water had come on… that look. Surely he hadn't been hearing sobs instead of gasps… Garrus felt something dark turn over in his stomach and blindly he licked at where he thought she might be. He could feel her tense as his long blue tongue made contact – cheek, nose… either humans didn't lick much or she knew what he was doing. Despite the diluting water, the new taste was there… sending numb tingles up his tongue.

Tears and sex, he didn't really know what that meant.

Curling his arms around her, Garrus turned and slid down the wall until they sat in a heap on the floor. They were still joined, but the turian was feeling too emotionally drained to continue.

Nothing was said for some time as the steaming water embraced them, running along the paths where their bodies didn't meet. Gradually their breathing slowing as their hearts relaxed and Garrus felt Shepard shift above him. He would have been content to hold her like that for hours, but eventually she was able to slide off him. Garrus tucked himself back into his pants as she stood and turned off the shower. Her expression was just as Thane had said - deceptively calm, as if she had just finished some mundane task like brushing her teeth or pushing the feed button on the fish tank.

Offering her hand, Garrus took it and Shepard pulled him to his feet. There had still been no words, and feeling suddenly worried, he moved away from her and towards the towels stacked nearby - luxuries of a captain's cabin he supposed. As he passed the sink he caught a glimpse of himself in the foggy mirror, completely soaked, shirt hanging open, snaps on the top torn right off. Even after almost three days the bite on his neck still looked angry. Pulling a towel off the pile, he let it fall open as he turned back to his mate. Shepard was staring at herself in the mirror. Carefully, he draped the fabric over her bare shoulders – it felt like a small victory.

His large taloned hands were still resting on her shoulders as he looked up at their reflection. She was watching his gentle movements and together they silently considered the sight of their doppelgangers looking back at them. What a frightening pair they made.

"Garrus…," she murmured, pulling the towel a little closer around her body. "You know what's at stake. The mission will always come first…" She glanced down at the lesions on her knuckles, which had already stopped bleeding - the benefits of cybernetic upgrades. "It doesn't leave a lot of room for intimacy and commitment."

Pressing his mouth against her shoulder in what he hoped translated as a kiss, he looked up at her sadly. "I told you I would be here for you - that I would accept whatever you were able to give. But you have to promise me something in return." Shepard gave Garrus an uncertain look. "Promise me you won't ever go on a mission alone again."

She looked away from their reflection, and he felt her take a deep breath. "I can't make that promise," she answered quietly.

"Then lie to me," he answered, frustration weaselling its way into Garrus' voice as he dropped his hands to his sides. "But… you can't do that either, can you? " He lifted his head from her shoulder. "Well, at least tell me you'll discuss it with me next time? At least give me that consideration."

Glancing back to the mirror, she held his gaze for only a moment before she stepped away from him and walked out of the bathroom. When she spoke her voice was growing more distant as she moved towards her closet. "You're looking pretty far into the future, don't you think? These could be the last few days of our lives."

The sight of himself, alone in the mirror, seemed alarmingly unnatural to Garrus. Remembering the food he had brought, he stepped out of the bathroom, grabbed the tray off the desk and descended the few stairs to where Shepard was standing.

"That's a little fatalistic. Besides, you could say every day is another life or death mission," he offered, forlornly holding the tray of now cold food. He took the brief opportunity he was offered to admire her sure movements as she picked out a fresh uniform . "And you never know, we might survive the omega 4 relay… and whatever lay beyond."

"Even if we make it back," she explained, still holding the Cerberus uniform, eyeing it suspiciously like a wolf skin she was forced to wear. With a quick hand she tossed it onto the bed, her back to him as she pulled on underwear, ignoring the conspicuous turian eyes that were looking her over. Spirits he had missed her. "I'm coming back to a witch hunt."

"Witch hunt?" he repeated. He must have sounded distracted because she glanced over her shoulder at him as she pulled on her uniform top. Garrus' eyes snapped back to her face.

"The batarians want blood," she stated darkly as she turned back to her closet and dug for the other half of her uniform. "Eventually I'll have to return to Earth and face charges."

"Charges-" Garrus' eyes again wandered as she bent over to pull on a pair of black pants.

"War crimes probably," she sounded so casual, like she was planning where to pick up rations or reciting a duty roster. "I'm guessing general acts of terrorism, mass genocide. Not sure how they will classify the kind of large scale destruction that occurred today…"

And just like that the transformation was complete. Commander Shepard was back in control and it was business as usual. She turned to him and ruffled her hair, shaking tiny drops of water from it. "There must be a unified galaxy if we're going to beat the reapers… so if the Alliance is going to avoid war with the batarians by stringing me up, then I will be there – on time and with all the rope they might need."

"Humanity is going to lynch the galaxy's greatest hero? That's insane…"

She picked the towel up off the bed and tossed it into the recycler. "Don't call me that… I'm not a god damn hero."

Garrus shifted his weight uneasily as he watched Shepard open her omni tool and glance through some messages. "Does this mean we are all fugitives now?"

Shepard flicked off her omni tool and looked up at the turian. "No, I was the only one involved, so everyone else should be in the clear. Plus, Hackett said he would try to buy us some time to finish our mission with the collectors. There is still a lot of confusion about what happened… that should buy us a few days, maybe a week."

Garrus looked down at the tray of food and back to Shepard. Glancing at the offerings she sighed. "I really don't think I could keep that down."

"Yeah, I bet they had really nice meals down there on that rock." He couldn't help the sarcasm as he lifted the tray, expectantly, towards her. "I don't know, it smells pretty good."

"Grilled cheese fan, Garrus?" Shepard asked bleakly as she crossed her arms. He almost thought she might smile.

The turian shrugged, flaring his mandibles hopefully at her. "Grilled sounds good, not sure about the cheese part though."

Eventually she shook her head and turned towards the stairs. "I'll have to take a rain check… we should be almost to the Citadel by now."

Garrus felt his brow plates rise. "The Citadel? Galactic fugitive? Are you deliberately looking for trouble?" She was heading up the stairs, making it clear their brief encounter was coming to an end.

"Seems that way, I know," she stopped and looked back at him, clothing still soaked, shirt hanging open, and standing at the bottom of the stairs holding the rejected tray of food. "But I promised Thane I'd help him with his son… it was before this whole fiasco." Her voice dropped and she looked at the fish tank. "Everyone needs to tie up loose ends… he's the last one. It should only take a few hours. Give the crew a chance to breathe before we go pick up the reaper IFF."

Garrus set the food down and quickly closed the space between them. He wasn't sure what was driving him to act this way as she had clearly returned to the role of his commanding officer. Taking her hands in his, his talons gently ran over the lacerated knuckles. He wanted to say something meaningful but he seemed incapable of letting out anything other than a frustrated huff of air.

Apparently it was enough, because Shepard's expression softened and she dropped her head to stare at their entwined hands.

"Garrus I'm… sorry you had to see me like that, and I can understand your frustrations with me leaving. I honestly thought I was only going to be gone a few hours." An apology, he really hadn't been expecting that. When did Shepard ever apologize for her actions? "But, just because we're doing... this... can't change the way I do my job."

"This will sound selfish, but I don't care if it does…" Garrus began, pulling her hands to his damp chest. "You were gone, and I didn't think about the fate of the galaxy, or how we would stop the collectors or the reapers…" He dropped his head, feeling shameful of his confession. "All I could think of was how I had lost you… again."

Shepard extracted her right hand from his grasp and placed it on the unscarred side of his face. Their foreheads came together and her voice was soft when she spoke.

"All we have is the time we're given. But for now, whatever time I have is yours, Garrus."

The moment was over too soon, as her hand fell away and she turned towards the elevator. Watching the doors slide closed behind her, he let out the long breath he had been holding.

However much time they were given… it would never be enough.


	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

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It was going to be another ten minutes before they dropped out of FTL and began the mass relay jump sequence. Joker and EDI had, by this time, perfected their biological and mechanical waltz, making this trip through the RS-147 relay no more difficult than flushing a toilet. Joker had begun to secretly wonder if the AI's assistance in directing the ship was dulling his skills, making him soft and complacent. It didn't help that he hardly ever had any visitors up to the cockpit, so between real time manoeuvre and scanning, the pilot was more often than not partaking in his favourite pastime.

He had been absently flipping through several haptic displays of live video feed when one caught his attention.

"What the hell…"

"Is there a problem, Mr. Moreau?" EDI's voice was always clear and sharp, but sometimes Joker could have sworn he heard intonations of disapproval, even sarcasm.

"Mmm… problem? No, not at all," he answered. Though his tone was dismissive, Joker's quick fingers told a completely different story as they danced across the screens in front of him. He didn't get around the ship much… well, not physically. He made up for this limitation though, especially now that he was aboard this new Cerberus vessel. It was brimming with audio and video feed from all over the ship. Typically there would be nothing interesting happening, just routine duties and innocent conversation. But once in a while, Joker would witness something that made up for his mobility issues.

"I do not believe the crew would appreciate being watched," the AI chimed in.

The pilot sighed, "come on EDI, don't be such a downer. Besides, I'm just making sure everything is running smoothly…" but his voice trailed off distractedly, his attention focused on the feed from deck one.

"Who are you watching now?" A voice asked, and the pilot started, leaning in front of the screen as he glanced over his shoulder at the woman standing behind him.

"Shit, Kelly. Do you always have to sneak up on me like that?"

"Serves you right for spying on people." Despite her reprimanding tone, the yeoman was already scrutinizing live footage he had been watching. She pointed at the screen, questioningly. "Is that Garrus? Did he just come out of the Commander's quarters?" The pilot looked back at the screen, both of them squinting at the image. Kelly cocked her head slightly. "What is he doing?"

"Beats the hell out of me. He's just been standing there staring at the elevator." Joker shrugged, "I think he suffered some brain damage on Omega... that, or turians are just really weird."

Kelly leaned even farther forward as she studied the screen. Not thinking, Joker's head turned in response to her movement, his nose accidentally brushing up against her left breast. Embarrassed by the contact, he quickly turned his attention back to the vid display. If Kelly noticed, she said nothing, only bit her lip thoughtfully as she watched the turian on the screen look at his feet. "It's weird seeing him out of his armour… he looks so much smaller. And does his shirt look ripped?"

Joker leaned in closer, trying to pick out more detail from the image. She was right. "Maybe they were uhhh… wrestling again?"

There had been a lot of discussion amongst the crew after the incident in the cargo hold. Arguments about who had won the fight had not been resolved since no one had actually seen the encounter, and not one person, not even Jack, had the nerve or the balls to ask either participant. And then there had been the matter of Mordin's strange arrival and suggestive comments. For the few people who had been there, it had been impossible to know if he was being serious or simply trying to scare them all back to their posts. There had been a rumour that the turian had a strange wound on his neck, presumably from the cargo hold incident, but that claim had yet to be substantiated.

There was also Garrus' extreme behaviour while Shepard had been MIA on her last mission. Everyone had been smart enough to avoid him – whether he was pacing angrily around the ship or brooding in the cockpit for hours, it was clear he was battling his own demons. The whole crew had been distressed at her absence, but he seemed particularly distraught. The subject of just what exactly had been going on between the two of them had exploded into numerous more debates, some of the Cerberus crew not inclined to believe their Commander would ever have a physical relationship with an alien. Of course all of this resulted in more bets, of which Ken was only too happy to take.

It was a small ship, and gossip was rampant - especially when it was about the Commander. Everyone loved gossip about Commander Shepard. Joker had been fiddling with the settings on the display, trying to focus the image, but without much success. "EDI, any idea what's been going on up there?"

There was a suspiciously long pause.

"I do not think it is appropriate for me to comment on this situation," the AI finally said. Kelly and Joker looked at each other, mystified, before casting curious glances in the direction of the blue orb in the corner.

"Not appropriate for you to comment?" Joker repeated, his voice incredulous. "Something you're not telling us EDI?"

Distracted by the screen and the cryptic words of the AI, neither crew member heard the steady boot falls that were approaching them from the CIC.

"What are we looking at?"

If one could stand at attention while seated, Joker was doing it now. Kelly almost fell over herself as she leapt away from the chair and saluted her Commander, something that she hadn't done since first coming aboard.

"Commander! We uhhh, we weren't looking at anything really," Joker explained, his hand coming down in an unsuccessful button mashing manoeuvre that momentarily zoomed in on the subject of the video feed. Swearing under his breath, the pilot finally closed the display, and turned his chair to face Shepard. The imposing woman's arms were crossed as she waited for an explanation; the pilot was quick to oblige. "Kelly was just showing me how she uses the cameras on the ship to monitor crew activities. Very… informative, thank you Kelly."

The Yeoman's mouth hung open. Stunned, she wanted to object, but she was too embarrassed to speak. It would probably have only made the situation even more awkward and inappropriate had she actually managed to say something. Shepard looked from the pilot to her, and Kelly found she could only nod mutely to her Commander before stumbling away.

Moving as quickly as she could without drawing any unnecessary attention, Kelly headed towards the other end of the ship. God that had been terribly humiliating, she thought as she reached the elevator and hit the button enough times that it should have jammed. Now seemed like an excellent time to get off the CIC and get something to eat – anywhere was better than being on deck two and having to face Shepard after what had just happened.

When the elevator doors slid open she blindly stepped inside, immediately realizing that there were worse places to be than on the CIC. The stance of the turian in the elevator should have been the model of a military officer at ease - the squared shoulders, hands clasped behind his back, legs set firmly apart and eyes straight ahead. But with his torn shirt, soggy clothing and the pant leg caught in the top of his right boot… Kelly had never seen a turian that looked so... well... dishevelled.

Nodding curtly at him once, she looked away, desperately trying to uphold the pretence of formality that had been established inside the small space. As the doors slid closed and the elevator powered up, there was an agonizing silence between the two occupants.

Curiosity quickly overwhelmed her, and Kelly couldn't help but take at quick sideways glance at the turian. When he caught her staring she hastily looked back at the door. A million likely scenarios that would explain his appearance ran through her mind, more than a few of them enough to make her blush. Of all the odd things she had seen and heard on the ship, this was pretty close to the top of the list.

"Is it that bad?" His deep voice rumbled, startling her. But his tone was casual, almost amused. She wondered briefly if he could tell she was blushing.

"What? No. I mean…" Kelly's thoughts were scattered, his words had thrown her off guard. That was until she remembered her place on the ship. These were the kinds of situations she was meant to resolve; after all, she was there to look after the needs of the crew, wasn't she? As much as she would have loved to ask him why he looked the way he did, she knew she'd do more good if she helped him out. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the turian. "Maybe you should head to the men's room and I'll grab you a change of clothes…"

She registered what seemed like surprise on his face, but she couldn't be sure. When the doors opened to the crew deck he gave her a curt nod before quietly making his way to the men's room. The yeoman smiled to herself as she whisked past the crowd in the mess hall, passed the sleeping pods, and stepped through the main battery doors. This was her job after all - well maybe not dressing crew members, but protecting the dynamic on the ship. It was almost like she was a spectre of the Normandy, sworn to maintain ship wide stability – admittedly with fewer explosions and less gunfire. She huffed a laugh to herself at the image it conjured in her mind.

At first glance the small space that the Normandy's turian crew member occupied looked unbelievably Spartan. He seemed to have no personal belongings what so ever. Prying open the crate in the corner however, revealed a stack of perfectly folded clothes - not surprising for a turian - some loose pistol and rifle mods, an issue of Galactic Arsenal, and beneath it an issue of Fornax. Surprised, the yeoman's first inclination was to avoid the disposable data pad magazine completely, but as she craned her neck trying to get a better look at the cover, she knew her curiosity was irreversibly piqued. Casting a quick glance at the door, Kelly grabbed the flimsy data pad and had just begun scrolling through the electronic publication when a voice shattered the silence.

"Kelly…"

The yeoman started, bumping her head against the open lid of the crate, swearing under her breath. As if it were burning her hand, she dropped the issue of Fornax before looking around frantically trying to spot the camera that was trained on her.

"Dammit Joker!" she cursed as she rubbed the spot on her head, mostly for the benefit of her observer.

"This is Commander Shepard speaking… I want to know why you are digging for treasure in Garrus' chest of horrors…" Joker continued in a poor impression of their leader.

Believing she had found what was hopefully a complete outfit, she slammed the crate closed. Kelly really didn't want to go digging for underwear… did turians even wear underwear? Maybe she should ask Shepard. She held in a snicker as she stood up.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Kelly said to the room, trying to hold the clothing against her, hoping the pilot might not see what she was doing.

"Well actually – " There was a sudden crackle and the comm. went silent. A wry smile crossed the yeoman's face. Shepard didn't exactly approve of Joker's random announcements, especially when he was doing impressions of her. Although he never stopped testing the limits of what he could get away with, the Commander seemed to give him a generous amount of freedom, definitely more than anyone else on the ship. It was a strange truce they shared, but she supposed the pilot had gotten them out of many tight situations, so perhaps he had deserved it.

Setting her shoulders she headed back towards the men's room. Although she hadn't noticed who was loitering in the mess hall on her first pass through, on her way back she was acutely aware of them. Tali and Kasumi were playing cards, while Jack was finger walking a knife at the other end of the table. All three gave her curious glances as she came around the bulkhead that divided the eating areas. Tali and Kasumi returned their attention to the card game, but Jack's eyes never left approaching redhead.

"When did your role switch from Yeoman to personal assistant, Kelly?" Jack sneered.

Forcing one of her dazzling, disarming smiles, she gave the powerful biotic a casual shrug. "Oh you know…."

She only caught Jack's frown of confusion before disappearing around the corner, the tattooed woman's sarcastic response getting lost in the hum of the ship. The door to the men's room opened and Kelly peeked in. Casually leaning against a nearby wall, Garrus reached out for the clothing she offered.

"I uhhh didn't want to try hauling parts of your armour down here, so hopefully this is ok."

The turian nodded, and to Kelly's surprise, he nonchalantly began to unbutton his shirt. The Yeoman swallowed, staring dumbly as Garrus peeled off the soaked item of clothing and crammed it into the recycler. It was quickly becoming apparent that turians had absolutely no shame whatsoever and were liable to just strip in front of anyone. Sure, the yeoman was familiar with the physiology and culture of many species, and she had seen images and vids containing naked turians, but seeing one up close was a completely different experience. The iridescent, metallic plates on his body were an interlocking zigzag of lines and angles that she couldn't help but trace with her eyes. Suddenly realizing that she had been staring, and not recognizing Garrus' amused grin, she hastily turned to leave.

"Thanks..." Garrus called out, his voice following her as the doors slid closed behind her. She stopped to collect herself and almost didn't notice Jacob leaving the elevator and heading for the men's room.

"Wait." She placed a hand in front of him and he stopped abruptly.

"What?" He looked around, a little confused. "What is it?"

When she offered no explanation he crossed his arms suspiciously, frowning at the yeoman. "Is there a reason you're stopping me from going into the washroom?"

As if in answer to his question, the doors to the men's room opened and Garrus nodded at them both as he walked past, dressed, dry and looking lofty as usual. The armoury officer uncrossed his arms and smirked, "Look, Kelly… I appreciate you trying to prevent me from walking in on Garrus in the washroom, but really… pretty well all the alien team members are guys." Jacob placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Now thank god Grunt never showers, and I've never seen Thane in there… but I hardly see that guy anywhere, damn assassin is so sneaky." Jacob's arms dropped back down to his sides. "Mordin and Garrus? Well, Mordin showers at the same time every other shift cycle, so that's easily avoidable… and Garrus, well, that guy likes his showers, but you really can't tell what you're looking at so I don't think it bothers anyone much… besides, he's got some pretty funny stories."

Stepping past the speechless yeoman, Jacob continued on to the men's room. "Now if you'll excuse me, nature calls."

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_The night cycle of the SR2 was well underway, the halls relatively quiet except for the crew of the third shift who she could hear coming and going somewhere out of sight. Shepard should have been exhausted. Having spent the day fighting her way around the armpit that was Omega, then having to drag Garrus' almost lifeless, bloodied body back to the ship only to wait hours for word on whether he would live or die. Yeah, she knew she should be asleep, but in this case knowing was a far cry from doing. It used to be that her mind would never still, running wild and imagining every possible future scenario while her body begged for rest. She used to lay awake at night, wishing desperately that her mind would give up its constant analysis of her life and the universe. _

_After her traumatic resurrection, the roles of her body and mind had done a complete one eighty. She was finding her body hummed with energy while her mind struggled to keep up. It was worse than before, now when she lay in bed, her mind drained and desperate for peace, her body would fidget and yearn for action __–__ of any kind._

_Her restlessness wasn't helped by the fact that she had finally found an old ally, only to have him almost torn away. Garrus had burrowed himself so deeply into the stinking cesspit that was Omega, that extracting him had left her wired to the point where she was unable to relax. She wanted to ask him a thousand questions, frantic to catch up with everyone and everything she had thought she had known. But the turian had come aboard in pieces, and was still recovering from his ordeal. The doctor had told him to sleep, so she knew her questions would have to wait. _

_The elevator doors opened to the crew deck and the Commander of the Normandy stepped out, dressed simply in a loose tank top and shorts. Well aware of the importance of appearances when it came to command, she didn't make a habit of wandering around the ship dressed the way she was. But it was the middle of the night, if you could even call it that, it really just meant most of the team and crew was asleep. It had been so long since she had been planet side and actually experienced a true dawn or sunset that it hardly had any meaning anymore._

_Her confident strides and alert eyes said she was well rested__…__ but her mind ached with fatigue. As she came around the bulkhead and into the mess hall she was surprised, her heart fluttering oddly, at the sight of their newest team member, back to her, sitting casually at one of the dining tables._

"_Garrus?"_

_He had obviously been lost in thought because he gave her a jerky look over his shoulder as if he hadn't heard her approach. He let out a soft hiss, the quick movement causing him pain. She passed by the table, heading towards the kitchenette. She was acutely aware of his attentive gaze, like a hawk tracking a small rodent from a hundred meters in the air. _

"_I thought you'd be asleep, considering all you've been through__…__ or has Omega made you too used to napping in gunfire and eating rockets?" He used to enjoy her twisted sense of humour, but tonight she only received a forced flare of his mandibles for her efforts. He sat back in his chair and regarded her with careful consideration. Secretly, she had always loved the challenge of interpreting his facial expressions. In her years of service, Shepard liked to think she'd gotten pretty good at it._

"_I could say the same for you," he finally replied, folding his arms._

"_Not all the caffeine, sedatives or illegal narcotics on the ship could put me to sleep," Shepard said over her shoulder as she grabbed a glass and filled it with water. "God only knows what Cerberus stuck in me. Hell, I've got biotics I don't even know how to use now."_

_The left brow of his facial carapace lifted in mild surprised at this. Grabbing an instant juice cube, she returned to the table and sat down across from him. He was still watching her has she dropped the cube into the water. It fizzed quietly as it self-dissolved. _

_There was a relaxed silence between them as she swirled the contents of her glass, never quite convinced the crystals would fully dissolved on their own. Shepard had to remind herself that she was still living in the past. Her memory of Garrus was of a na__ï__ve C-Sec officer looking for guidance and approval from a superior. But when she looked at the turian across from her now, that wasn't what she saw. He seemed older, jaded, as if he had seen too many terrible things in too short a time __–__ the fresh wound mangling half of his face didn't help. She imagined his body count now rivalled her own, and that in the two years it had taken him to catch up he had traded his soul for the resolve to continue. _

_Earlier that day she had sought him out and they had briefly discussed his team, why he had been on a shithole like Omega, and of course why he had allowed himself to be cornered in that warehouse. She had pressed him about it, pointing out how it was tactical suicide. He hadn't been able to offer much of an answer; his lame arguments about superior vantage points did not come across as very convincing. The things he had endured during his struggle to punish the seedy underworld that powered the station's economy had, for some reason, made her feel incredible guilty. Once dependant on her, for advice, for guidance, she hadn't been there. She realized that she would have to accept that he was no longer her responsibility. It was a big step in slowly dissolving the two year gap that separated memory and reality. _

_She had to give him credit though. Asking him to work for a known human centric terrorist organization hadn't put him off- he'd had no qualms about signing up. Even though his former commander wasn't more than a resurrected wraith, reconstructed and engineered to save humanity and the galaxy, seeing her alive had been enough. The very thought of what she was made her stomach clench and she pushed down the nausea and disgust. She owned nothing, no objects, no land, not even her life, her goals, or even her death._

_The way he had stood in the door way, still wavering from the heavy medication he had been on in the med bay. Those eyes, earnestly watching her, trying to believe what they saw. It had been unsettling. Even still, he had been so willing to join her, no questions asked - no details required. She could only hope that the rest of her former teammates would be just as agreeable._

_Her face must have been giving too much away because Garrus' expression changed. _"_How are you really doing, Shepard?"_

_Immediately her reaction was to turn the situation away from herself. _"_I should be asking you that." _

_He looked down at his hands, and she could tell he knew she was avoiding his question. Maybe it was still too soon for either of them to start talking. _"_You seem distant__…__ you want to talk about it?" she finally asked. _

_He shrugged, a seemingly universal sign of passive uncertainty, or perhaps he had just spent too much time around humans. _"_I'm still trying to wrap my mind around all this." Garrus self consciously rubbed the flexible medical plate that protected the injured side of his face. Shepard's stomach twisted involuntarily as she considered, again, how close she had come to losing him only hours earlier. _"_How are you coping with his... new life?" His voice was thoughtful, but she sensed an apprehension in it that made her pause._

"_I do everything I can not to think about it __–__ any of it. Try to remind myself what's at stake," she answered honestly._

_He tilted his head away, but his avian eyes remained fixed on her. After a few moments he visibly relaxed, but he didn't speak. One of his taloned hands was resting limply on the table, and in a move that startled them both, Shepard reached over and set a warm hand on top of his. He glanced at where they were touching, but his face remained impassive._

"_I'll give you some time. Let me know if you need anything," she offered quietly. The points of contact between them seemed to burn, and she removed her hand, acutely aware of her racing heart and warming skin. Her body was betraying some secret wish inside her that she wasn't entirely ready to face. Pushing back her chair, she stood, signalling her imminent departure._

_As she moved away from the table, his voice made her pause._ "_It's really good to see you again, Shepard."_

_She smiled at him, and nodded. In that split second, some part of her made the decision that he deserved more than just platitudes and professional concern. "You know Garrus, when the Illusive man said no one knew where you were or what had happened to you__…__ I was worried I might never find you."_

"_Since when have you failed at anything?" he threw back, not missing a beat, a clearly painful smile touching his expression._

"_Well, I failed at staying alive. That's pretty significant," she shot back. _

"_Admit it; you only came back so you could kill more geth," he answered. She couldn't help but laugh, he winced as his mandibles flared, pleased at getting a response out of her. It felt good to laugh. He had no idea how much she appreciated his company, his loyalty, his turian sense of humour _

_Before she headed towards the elevators she paused. "Good night Garrus." It was a habitual human saying, that even now, without day or night, she still caught herself using. "I'm really glad you're back on-board. It wasn't the same without you."_

_He said nothing, just looked back at her with those intense, penetrating eyes. Her stomach turned over, the turian vanishing from view as she made her way to the elevator. Shepard still had a small smile on her lips as the doors closed behind her._

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"Garrus, it is surprising to see you here. How is the Commander?"

For once, the turian found no smart ass remark on the tip of his tongue. "Actually I wanted to talk to you about that." Garrus stood just inside the doors of Life Support. His stomach clenched and he released a breath. The ill feelings in his gut had little to do with where he was or what he was doing – he would have to remind himself that tasting human tears was a really bad idea.

Seated at a small table looking out over the reactor core, Thane's arms were balanced on his elbows, his hands clasped thoughtfully in front of his chin. As always, his voice was level, but there was a hint of curiosity in it that couldn't be missed.

"Whatever assistance I can provide is yours."

Garrus took a few steps towards the table, casting a quick glance at the cot in the corner. His bulky armour rubbed as he crossed his arms. As soon as he had left the men's room he had changed back into his usual attire – he preferred it. Somehow the extra layers created more than just the feeling of increased physical protection. As the turian looked down at the seated drell, he felt the familiar distrust he had for the assassin creep back into this voice.

"I wasn't expecting such a warm invitation."

In reality Garrus wasn't all that surprised at Thane's willingness to talk; he wouldn't be there had he thought the drell wouldn't speak with him. Really, he just didn't want to seem too interested in what Thane had to say.

Sitting back in his chair, the reptilian assassin shot Garrus as sideways glance."While you and I may have our differences, I am still here for Shepard. I will support whatever course she decides upon. You and I have the same goals. So please…" He gestured for the turian to sit.

Garrus walked up to the small table and sat down across from the drell. It was strange, but he could understand why Shepard talked to Thane. There was something curiously disarming about him; an odd trait for a trained assassin. Still, his spirituality and honesty seemed genuine.

Releasing a sigh, Garrus let flow the words that had been tumbling around in his head, before he changed his mind. "I'm worried about Shepard. She's… punishing herself for what happened to the colonists on Aratoht. I don't understand her, or maybe I don't understand humans," he sighed, placing his gloved hands on the table. "When I lost my team, I blamed myself because it was my error in judgement that got them killed. But Shepard - choosing to destroy the mass relay may have killed hundreds of thousands, but it might save trillions. She made a good choice, so why does she dwell on it?"

Nodding thoughtfully, Thane leaned back in his chair as he considered Garrus' words. "I can understand your confusion. My own experiences with humans have taught me that they tend to take things from their past and apply it to all things in their lives. In reality, the Commander is not such a complex creature. From what I have read in her file and from our conversations, I know that she grew up away from the human home world. Though it is unclear how she survived the slaver attack on her colony, it would be safe to assume she has guilt about being spared or even a sense of failure for not preventing the incident."

Thane's double lidded eyes blinked, "The path of her life is defined by that day – orphaned and alone she immediately joins the military, she thwarts an attack during the Skyllian Blitz in an almost suicidal display of determination, hounds Saren across the galaxy and stops him from instigating a reaper invasion, and now the collectors -"

"You're saying every time she fails to save a life..."

Nodding, the drell continued, "-she probably relives those same feelings of loss and failure she felt when she lost everyone she knew on Mindoir. Humans tend to define themselves by their regret. When they can no longer feel remorse for actions that affect others adversely they often claim to have 'lost their humanity'."

Garrus considered the drell's words, their meaning sinking even farther beyond his original concerns. For months he had blamed himself, and still did, for not being on the Normandy when it had been attacked. When his team and been slain by Sidonis' betrayal, he had blamed himself for not preventing it. Self blame, was this the same as regret? Turians were not raised to feel this way. You were expected to take responsibility for your decisions, accepting that you made your choices based on your best judgement or reasons at the time. He had blurred the lines in his mind by his own choice... but this plague that had haunted him for years, was something that humans lived with on a daily bases? They were such odd creatures. While he could often identify turian characteristics in other races, there were still moments when he was reminded that they were all built just a little differently.

"So what can I do?" the turian asked, for her and himself. There was a brief pause, and Garrus cocked his head, hopeful the drell could produce some sound course of action. That was why he was here after all.

"I do not think there is anything that can be done. We cannot change Shepard, her emotions and the burdens of command are hers to bear. But she is strong, and she will eventually accept and make peace with her decision, even if she can never forget it. Carrying the weight of an entire galaxy will no doubt cause her to have moments of doubt and uncertainty." The drell dropped his head slightly as he looked at the turian. "– It is our job as her… friends, to remind her what it is she fights for."

Looking away from the drell, Garrus' eyes fell on the guns lined up along the wall. Thane's expression remained neutral as he spoke. "You care very deeply for her."

It was a statement, but Garrus knew Thane was waiting for him to elaborate. Shifting in his chair uncomfortably, he glanced back at the drell before standing. He approached the display of guns, feigning interest as he picked up one of the pistols for a closer look. After several long moments he finally responded.

"I had some… difficulty letting her go after she died."

"She would not be an easy person to forget," the drell admitted, folding his arms as he studied the turian silhouetted against the glow of the gun display. Replacing the pistol to its original spot, Garrus moved on to the second display of guns. It wasn't common for the turian to open up to anyone, so he wasn't really sure what was causing him to do so now. He had come to the life support room intent on quizzing Thane about Shepard's mental state, but now that he had the information he was looking for, he couldn't quite understand why he was still there. Perhaps it was because Thane had freely given him insight into Shepard's psyche, and even a bit into his own, so much so that now he felt obliged to answer a few of the drell's questions.

Or maybe it just felt good to open up to someone; even if Thane was the last person he ever imagined doing it with. Well, that wasn't true. Jack or Grunt would probably be the last team members he'd open up to.

"Tell me, was she this way before her death?" the drell asked.

Garrus felt his mandibles inadvertently flare in the equivalent of a smile as he thought fondly about the old days. "It you are asking if she was just as determined, just as skilled a soldier and leader… then yes." He picked up one of the sniper rifles, expanding it as he turned it over in his hands, checking the sights and admiring the advanced targeting mods absently. "But she's darker now, fiercer than I remember. Stronger and more fragile at the same time… if that even makes sense."

Thane nodded, "it does," was the drell's simple answer. He watched the turian run a talon along the barrel of the gun, his mind obviously elsewhere. "You're waiting for her to catch up," he whispered suddenly, and although his voice had been quiet, it struck a heavy chord within him. Looking up from the rifle, he stared at the red stencilled word, NORMANDY, on the wall in front of him. He said nothing as the drell continued. "You've loved her since you lost her two years ago, maybe even before, and now you find yourself needing more."

Still the turian said nothing. Thane pressed on.

"But you worry that the depths of her feelings will not match your own. You play with fire, but have no bucket of water."

It was too much, too close to the truth. All at once he decided he didn't need a psyche evaluation from a dying man. Abruptly Garrus changed the subject. "Shepard mentioned we're heading to the Citadel?"

The drell took the topic shift in stride. "Yes… I… before she left for Aratoht I had received word that my son was in trouble. Shepard promised to help, and despite the new danger she faces, she still seems bent on keeping that promise."

Returning the sniper rifle to its place, Garrus looked back at Thane, who was turned in his chair, regarding him with large dark eyes. It was definitely time to make his exit.

"Family is important…. good luck with your son," Garrus offered as he turned for the door before tossing his next words over his shoulder. "Keep an eye on Shepard for me."

Thane actually stood from his spot in front of the drive core, causing Garrus to pause at the door and turn back to him. "I assumed you would be accompanying her." The drell's voice was surprised.

"No, this is something the two of you should take care of. Besides, this might be the last time we set foot on the Citadel."

Thane arched a scaly eye brow.

"Perhaps."

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She wore her combat helmet. Not much of a disguise to the people who knew her, but it seemed to be enough for the halls of the citadel. Anyone in full body armour drew attention, but at least they wouldn't be able to see her face.

Before they had hit the mass relay, the Normandy had hooked up to the closest comm. buoy so that Shepard could make arrangements for their low key approach to the station. Citadel control hadn't directed them to their usual docking port, and when they arrived, they were met by an uneasy looking Captain Bailey. The exchange between him and Shepard, before she gave the all clear to the crew, seemed tense. Miranda had been quite vocal with her objections about this stop at the station, but Shepard had been adamant about helping Thane and giving the crew time off, even if it was only going to be a couple of hours. Everyone was under strict orders to complete their port-side business as quickly as possible and to keep a low profile.

A few final checks of their equipment and she and Thane had immediately left with Bailey to go look for the drell's son. They crew seemed subdued, though most of them were taking the opportunity to fulfil any last minute encounters, communications or purchases while they had the chance.

Not much had changed since Garrus had wandered the wards as a C-Sec officer. He no longer wore the uniform, but the way people were giving him sideways glances told him he still walked like he did. Every vid screen he passed was reporting on the destruction of the Bahak system. Images of the desolated landscape that used to be the colony on Aratoht were on a loop. It was a constant reminder that they were there on borrowed time. Luckily information about the who and why was still sketchy at best and mostly hypothetical.

The bag he carried in his left hand should have been light – but it wasn't the contents that were weighing it down, it was the implications. In fact, it was starting to feel like an eighty pound rock.

The reality of the dangers they faced in the conclusion of their primary mission had struck everyone in the past few days, Garrus included. He had been thinking hard about what exactly he had been doing – he had seduced his commanding officer, if what he had done could even be called seduction. And he had marked her, an act usually reserved for bond mates, without her permission. He had tried to convince himself that he had made his best attempt to confess his transgression, but really he'd just been too disgusted with himself to admit to her what he'd done. Fear of her rejection was also making it difficult for him to come clean. Instead of talking to Shepard, every encounter they'd had since had ended in intense, desperate sex. He wasn't going to deny the searing lust that existed between them, but that hadn't been why all this had happened.

It had never originally been about physical attraction.

Though the Commander had warned the crew that they may need to leave in a moment's notice, she had given them an estimated time to return to the ship. According to his omni tool, there was still over a standard hour before everyone was due back. As it had in the past, Garrus found walking the wards a welcome distraction. Without realizing it he had wandered into Tola Da, a ward predominately asari, with a smattering of human. The smells were a nice change, having just passed through an area heavily populated with elcor. The heavy stench of their food always made the back of his throat burn.

As he moved through the bustling corridors he felt his nose twitch. A scent from his past floated on the artificial breeze, triggering a memory he had long since buried. His nose wrinkled again as the smell grew stronger. The sadist in him followed it to its source and before long he found himself standing in front of a human flower shop.

In the window sat a container of large white flowers, their aroma like a baton beating him emotionally senseless. Garrus just stared at them, stunned as their fragrance conjured such clear images in his mind; he hadn't realized the flowers had made such an impact on his memory. The last time he had smelled that scent had been two years earlier…

"Garrus?"

His attention was jarred from the flowers to the reflection in the store's large glass window. Of all the people he could run into on the Citadel…

"Alenko," he replied, turning to face the human.

"I'm surprised to see you here. News of the Normandy's arrival didn't come to me through normal channels… with all the secrecy I doubted I would find any of her crew on the station." The former LT was attempting to come off sounding casual, but he was terrible at hiding his true feelings – even for a turian, Garrus had no trouble spotting his anxiety. Not surprisingly so, Garrus felt his hibernating desire to gut the man with a quick talon across his fleshy stomach slowly return. The feeling was quelled only by the knowledge that he had been given explicit instructions, by Shepard, to keep a low profile.

"Is there something I can do for you?" The turian asked politely, but without hiding the suspicion in his voice.

"There's a lot of talk floating around… " the biotic cocked his head to the side, his train of thought seemingly derailed by the realization that the turian had been gazing into a flower shop. Thankfully, he didn't comment on it. "First I hear about the destruction of the Bahak system and all its inhabitants, and now there are murmurs of Shepard's involvement. "

Garrus shrugged indifferently, "I don't know what to tell you."

"I thought as much… look, I know you'd be the last one to tell me anything about the Normandy's current mission, or Cerberus, or anything else…" At least Kaidan knew that much. "But I'm worried… maybe we can share a beer… you know, a friendly drink between old friends?"

_Old friends?_, Garrus wondered to himself.

The human was up to something; Garrus wasn't stupid. Glancing at his omni tool, he was going to tell the man that he just didn't have time, but hell, he had nothing to lose. He might be asking for trouble, but this might be the last beer he ever had.

He really needed to stop thinking in finalities.

"Why the hell not." The turian finally answered.

Kaidan seemed momentarily surprised, as if he'd never expected Garrus to accept his invitation. But he recovered quickly and pointed towards a nearby café that looked as though it doubled as a bar in the later hours. The tables spilled out into the corridor, almost like a patio, except for the fact that it wasn't actually outside. They settled for a spot out front, both of them appreciating how easy it would be to make a quick exit if necessary.

The salarian waiter had seen them coming and was already waiting to take their order.

"Can I get a stout? Whatever's cold…" the salarian nodded at Kaidan before looking over at Garrus.

"I'll have an ale, preferably something from Parthia, otherwise anything from the Larrus Peninsula on Palaven is fine." It was a bit lush of him, but again… last beer ever? He could afford to splurge.

"Never met a turian who knew his beer," Kaidan commented thoughtfully.

"Had beers with a lot of turians?" Garrus quipped.

The biotic shook his head. "Fair enough."

"So what's this all about?" Garrus asked directly. "It's been a long time since we shared a drink… and considering the last time we bumped into each other on Horizon, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon."

"Yeah, Horizon. What a nightmare." Kaidan admitted as he looked at the turian, his eyes dwelling on the still healing scars. "You look like you've seen better days."

Garrus nodded, accepting the change in subject. "Shepard says I need to lay off the diet of missiles. So I'm trying, but it's not easy once you get a taste for them."

Kaidan actually cracked a smile at this. Their beers arrived, and as they gripped their glasses, the human raised his. "First a toast…" Garrus gave him a doubtful look. "To your mission to stop the collectors."

Reluctantly, Garrus raised his beer and their glasses clinked together.

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"Keelah…"

Tali stopped short on the other side of the corridor, though her face was hidden, her surprise was easy to recognize. This area of the ward was busy enough that neither the human nor the turian were aware of their audience.

"Isn't that Commander Alenko?" Jacob looked past the quarian. "Good thing Shepard's not around," he muttered under his breath. He hadn't been with the Commander on Horizon, but he'd read the report, and he'd heard the stories. It was amazing the information that came out after a person died. Even though Cerberus had a thorough dossier on Shepard, it seemed her previous relationship with the Alliance officer was a well established rumour.

Offering to accompany the quarian had been both a peace offering and a way to satisfy his curiosity, but in the end he had simply become her pack mule. Now he was shouldered with several bags and bulky containers. He had, at least, learned a lot about haggling for merchandise - Tali had walked out of the last store at least five times before a deal had been struck with the stubborn volus.

"I don't know if those two should be talking…." She muttered, her filtered voice concerned as she watched the turian and former crew mate eyeing each other across their beers. Jacob really couldn't see the harm in it. Both seemed relaxed.

Knowing quarians were a very communal people, he had quickly learned to trust Tali's interpretation of social situations. Still, from what he was seeing, there hardly seemed any suggestion of argument or aggression at the table.

"Didn't they serve together on the SR1?" Jacob asked, "they seem to be friendly enough."

"Yeah… I'm not so sure about that," she answered as she quickly checked her omni tool before looking back at the seated men. "A powerful biotic and an unpredictable turian vigilante - mix in some history and a common female denominator. What you get is a recipe for a shit storm that I'm sure Shepard would define as, if not insulting, then definitely counterproductive."

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"My beer is half done and you haven't really said anything yet," Garrus observed, a little distracted as he watched the asari at the bar pour fancy drinks for a human couple.

"You're right. I…." Kaidan pushed a hand through his short cropped hair. "Seeing Shepard on Horizon was… disconcerting. How is she?"

This got Garrus' attention, enough to make him turn back to the man across from him and set down his glass. "What have you heard?"

The biotic mirrored the turian's actions, setting his own beer down also. "A lot of things… mostly rumours, I hope." Kaidan tapped his short nails against the cool glass before nervously taking another sip of his beer. "I sent Shepard a message, but she never got back to me. Seeing her again just…" he shook his head, as if he could somehow release the memory from his mind. "I miss her… can't stop thinking about her. I was so terrible to her on Horizon. I tried to apologize, but I've heard nothing from her. Has she mentioned me at all to you?"

Garrus kept his surprise in check. He had been certain that Kaidan was on some kind of assignment to find out the details of their business in the terminus systems, or to at least dig for information about Cerberus and their mission against the collectors. He had known Shepard would come up in their conversation, but he hadn't realized his Commander's former lover would be spilling his guts to him.

He had been playing down this whole encounter, but now, the way the conversation was going he was feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Honestly, he hadn't thought he'd care what they discussed, only that he might enjoy having a beer before leaving the Citadel. He was now feeling so awkward that he wished the reapers would hurry up and invade. Any interruption would do - a merc gunship, husks, or even a damn geth colossus right there in the ward would be better than this.

Ever cool under pressure, the turian gave a half-hearted shrug, hoping to change the direction of conversation with a dismissive, vague answer. "I don't know if I'm the one you should be asking."

"You know her Garrus, and she trusts you…" Kaidan's voice trailed off and his expression changed. Garrus was suddenly worried that he had been found out. Self consciously he touched his neck and was mercifully reminded that his armour covered the questionable wound there.

"She's found someone else, hasn't she?" the human lamented. Garrus remained silent. "Dammit," the biotic cursed, bringing his glass down a little forcefully. "I mourned her for two years, and then when I finally see her again I completely blow it… and now… Jesus, you think you know someone." Kaidan's jaw clenched. "I can't believe she's with one of those Cerberus assholes."

"She's not," the turian answered a little too quickly, "and even if she was…" Garrus took a long drink of beer, realizing the situation was deteriorating quickly - it was no longer worth taking his time to enjoy, possibly, the last beer of his life. He knew that when he reached the bottom of the glass he would be able to politely escape this uncomfortable situation, and hopefully avoid any unpleasantness.

Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, he couldn't seemed to keep his mouth closed until then.

"I don't see how it's any of your business."

It might have been the way he said it, or maybe it was how he seemed unable to meet the human's eyes. When he finally looked back at Kaidan, Garrus knew he had slipped up. There it was, written all over the human's face - terrible realization. The biotic brought his glass down from his lips, slowly, his eyes narrowing.

"Garrus… You…" He seemed to have trouble forming the words. "You …and Shepard?"

The turian said nothing. Dodging the issue seemed acceptable since the man hadn't really asked him a direct question.

"God damn it Garrus, tell me - Are you sleeping with Shepard?"

Now that was a pretty direct. "Like I said, I don't really think it's any of your business." Maybe if he could avoid answering, he could get out of this after all.

"It IS my business!" The biotic brought his fist down hard on the table and Garrus raised a brow plate at his outburst.

"Two years ago it might have been," he said carefully.

"What did you say to her?" Kaidan demanded, standing up suddenly, almost knocking the dredges of his beer off the table as a familiar blue glow of dark energy began to flicker around him. He was pointing at Garrus angrily, his hand trembling. "You seduced her you fucking turian!"

Garrus did what he always did in these kinds of situations; he tried to look relaxed. Casually crossing his arms, he leaned back in his chair. "Kaidan, you chose your side. Don't whine to me about how things didn't turn out in your favour. Maybe if you learned to trust people-"

"You ruined her…" The biotic whispered.

"What did you just say?" The turian's voice flanged low as he leaned forward, daring the biotic to repeat his words.

"I loved her, and you ruined her!" Kaidan said it more loudly this time and Garrus sprung up from his seat, the table rattling as he bumped up against it, their unfinished glasses of beer sliding off and crashing onto the floor. In his peripheral vision, he could see their display had caught the attention of the other patrons, even the asari proprietor and the salarian waiter had stopped what they were doing. So much for low profile, Garrus thought to himself.

Kaidan's arms shimmered with biotic energy. Whether it was his emotional state or if he really meant it as a threat, Garrus was unsure. The turian was clearly at a definite disadvantage since only Shepard and Thane had been permitted to bring their weapons onto the station. Briefly he considered grabbing a jagged piece of broken glass off the floor, but he knew he'd never reach it in time. He would have to rely on the hope that in the past two years Kaidan hadn't developed into the kind of man who liked to push people around with his biotics over a disagreement.

"Am I interrupting?"

Tali had appeared out of nowhere, her voice was sweet, but her arms were on her hips and she seemed… well, really irritated. "Kaidan, it's been a long time. How's the Alliance treating you?"

"Tali…" Kaidan's voice was hoarse and surprised. Momentarily distracted, the biotic's blue glow flickered and dimmed. Garrus' gut told him to strike, but it would have been a foolish move. They were docked at the Citadel, not Omega. He wouldn't get half way to the ship before they'd have him under arrest.

"I'm sure Commander Shepard wouldn't have appreciated whatever was about to transpire here," Tali explained as she looked at each of them. The biotic nodded numbly. "And Garrus, I think it's time for us to return to the ship…"

"Absolutely," he agreed, snapping up his bag, the broken glass crunching under his boots as he moved away from the table.

"I'm sorry Kaidan," Tali nodded at the man. "Hopefully next time we will meet under better circumstances. "

Speechless, Kaidan gave them one last look before he pushed past them and disappeared into the crowds.

"I can't believe it," Garrus muttered.

"What?" Tali asked, still shaking her head at what had almost transpired.

"He left me with the bill." Garrus was looking down at his omni tool with annoyance as he paid their tab. Tali couldn't seem to find the words to respond. Jacob was still picking up the items he had set down when it had looked like they might need to intervene in the conflict between the two former crew mates.

"Damn Garrus, that guy looked like he was about to tear you limb from limb with his biotics."

The turian let out what he hoped sounded like a casual chuckle as the three of them headed for the ship. "Wouldn't be the first time I've gotten that look from someone."

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	10. Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

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The ship heaved hard to one side, tossing the occupants of the airlock roughly against the starboard bulkhead. Bracing herself, Shepard turned, trying to absorb the impending impact of the wall with her shoulder instead of her face. It was chaos as they all tried to remain standing, like some terrible carnival ride, the floor plunged before rising again and tossing them roughly to the floor. As the vents hissed and the cabin pressurized, the floor pitched again, sending everyone rolling backwards.

A harsh word the translators didn't pick up slipped from Mordin's lips as the geth they had salvaged slid across the floor and crashed into him. In an impressive display of balance, Garrus staggered to his feet and attempted to help move the heavy machine off the old salarian - but the ship lurched again, sending the geth's body forward, taking Garrus' feet out from under him and knocking him back to the floor with a painful grunt.

The violent shudders of the Normandy abruptly ended and Shepard released a sigh of relief as they cleared Mnemosyne's atmosphere. Dragging herself to her feet, she turned to check on her comrades. Mordin was helping Garrus roll the geth off his leg where it was pinning him against the floor. Accepting the hand offered by his Commander, the turian hauled himself to his feet.

Hitting the control for the inner airlock door, it whooshed open and Shepard glanced into the cockpit. It was reassuring to see the calm black ocean of space through the viewing windows.

"Damn it Joker, couldn't you have made our exit a little smoother?" She rolled her shoulder, trying to work out the slight ache that was developing due to her slamming into the airlock wall.

"My apologies for the chop Commander. Mnemosyne had a real death grip on us. Just add it to my list of 'most unbelievable space craft escapes of all time'. I should be getting some sort of award," Joker said over his shoulder, still focused on the ship controls.

"Well, I don't think Cerberus gives out medals, but maybe someone will write a nice ballad about you." Shepard retorted.

"Great... a ballad," the pilot muttered sarcastically. "And that's assuming we even get the chance to tell anyone about all this."

Unlatching her helmet and slipping it off, Shepard used the back of her gloved hand to wipe away the fine sheen of sweat on her face as she turned back to the airlock. Mordin had his omni tool out, though he seemed torn between scanning the IFF in his hand and the geth that was still sprawled out on the airlock floor. Garrus had removed his helmet, but was turned away from her and seemed to be fiddling with something, though she couldn't see what.

That was when she noticed the splotches of blue on the floor.

"Garrus," his name came out his a harsh whisper. She quickly closed the gap between them, dropping her helmet, unsealing her right glove and pulling it off with her teeth as she turned him around. Spitting out her glove, she began unbuckling the clasps that ran along the underside his armoured forearm.

"Commander?" Her head was close enough to him that his breath rustled her hair as he spoke. So formal, she thought sadly. It seemed like the more intimate they became in private, the more professional he was in their daily activities. "It's fine... just a flesh wound..." he attempted to reassure her.

The heavy gauntlet fell away and she tugged off his glove before sliding up the stretchy material of his under shirt. "One of those husks got a little too close back there." He said by way of explanation, but his voice had softened, taking on an almost airy quality, like he wasn't really aware of himself speaking at all. The softer flesh of his under arm twitched under her fingers as she inspected the long gash that ran down from his elbow. Easily, she was able to recall the moment during their escape when the one of the husks would have been close enough to catch a claw along the seam of his armour. She cursed herself inwardly for being so careless as to put her team in danger.

As her eyes ran down the length of his arm she noticed the back of his hand looked damaged. Before she could ask, Mordin was beside them, snatching the turian arm from Shepard and muttering to himself as he studied the wound. Releasing her grip, she stepped back, feeling her jaw clench as she looked down at her blood covered hands.

The sudden feeling of suffocation she'd had at the sight of Garrus' blood on the floor had taken her by surprise, though she had been quick to stifle it. Now, as she looked at the blue staining her hands she could feel her breath want to hiccup in her throat, bringing with it a vivid string of unwanted memories.

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__Confusion. The burn of adrenaline... and something else.__

__Fear. The fear of desperate finality.__

"__Mordin, I think he was taking a lot of psycho-stimulants, but I can't be sure. I didn't recognize any of the discharged injectors – And he's allergic to dotraphen." Her voice sounded far away, even though she was sure she was yelling. Your ears are ringing from the blast, her mind told her, but she wasn't listening to reason. __

"__He took a round of gun fire before he was hit with the rocket, so assume secondary wounds..." Garrus' body shook limply as she tugged off the cuisses and greaves on his right leg. Four of them were tearing off chunks of turian armour, its blue paint and Garrus' blood indistinguishable as each piece fell heavily to the floor. Her fingers kept slipping as she tried to undo the buckles. It was as much a result of the slick blue coating on her hands as it was the agonizing horror. Tasting blood in her mouth, she realized she had been biting her lip in an effort to quell the shaking of her hands. A strong scent of charred metal and burnt flesh hung in the air, coating her nostrils and choking her breaths. __

"__Please, Shepard," Mordin implored, shooting her a sympathetic but pointed look before Chakwas shifted to the right, effectively blocking her from seeing exactly what they were doing. Stumbling back a few steps, Shepard could only stare at the sickening scene unfolding before her - the bowed heads of Mordin and the doctor, their clipped sentences and focused eyes. Miranda was hovering nearby, passing instruments and items as they were requested, her normally spotless white jump suit stained with blue streaks. More dark smears covered the floor, crawling towards her accusingly.__

__There was a soft gurgle as the machines beeped sporadically and Shepard felt something boil up inside her. __

__She had failed him. She had found Garrus, and now she would have to watch him die.__

__Her hands balled into fists, her fear mutating into twisted anger as she tried frantically to suppress the sound that was collecting in her throat. But instead of sound, there was a sudden flash of blue and the chair sitting in front of Chakwas' desk skidded across the med bay and crashed into a mobile console.__

_Everyone in the room startled for a moment, then went back to their tasks. "___Jacob, get her out of here!" Miranda yelled over the lowered voices of Mordin and the doctor. The unexpected movement of the chair was enough to snap Shepard's focus away from the activity around Garrus' body. Looking around, she searched for the source of the random display of biotics. __

__Then it hit her. It was her.__

__The biotic implants were just one more thing Cerberus had taken the liberty of 'installing'. She had no experience with biotics – no training. Looking down, she caught a quick cobalt shimmer as it flickered across the stained surface of her gloved left hand. Another flash and it was gone, and she was left with only her hands. Detachedly, she rubbed her fingers together, the slick semi dried blood stinging her nose with its coppery smell.__

__She became aware of a hand on her shoulder.__

"__Come on Commander. We should give them some space – and you should get cleaned up," the voice said.__

__Hollowness filled her. Drained and overwhelmed, Shepard nodded faintly and let the hand turn her towards the exit. In the med bay windows she caught a glimpse of a stranger. A pale woman with glowing scars and turian blood in her hair, smeared in a large arc across her face and painted all down her chest, arms and hands. It was the look of someone possessed – a deranged murderer. __

__The pressure on her shoulder urged her on and she turned away from the stranger, away from the machines and doctors, and away from the bed where her friend struggled for his life. __

__Too late. She had been too late. __

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Garrus was staring at her. There was something odd in his eyes, his mandibles twitched when she looked at him.

"All done," Mordin said, pleased and completely unaware of the exchange occurring between the other two people. "Lot of blood, wound not serious, suggest you ingest fewer foods high in iron."

"Wait, isn't that the opposite-" Shepard started, her dark reflections quickly evaporating in the information overload of the present.

"The opposite of humans, yes. Anaemia in turians caused by too much iron." Mordin finished for her, impatiently. His tone was enough to help her completely shake off her distraction.

"Ok, let's get moving." Shepard jerked her head towards the geth and together, she and Garrus hoisted it up between them. As they shouldered the weight of the heavy mechanical body, Garrus side stepped and she felt his hip bump into her. She shuddered involuntarily, biting her lip as she took a step forward, ignoring her body's traitorous responses to his touch.

Steadying themselves, they moved out of the airlock, the sounds of jostling metal and the scraping of the geth's feet as they dragged along the floor echoing down the CIC. It wasn't long before the murmurs amongst the bridge crew turned to open gawking.

"Shit! Is that a geth?" Joker called out from where he was turned right around in his chair, staring unbelieving, with the rest of the crew. "You really think EDI is ready for a boyfriend?"

"Mr. Moreau, I should not have to explain the multitude of reasons why that statement is –"

Shepard frowned, ignoring both the pilot and the AI as she adjusted the mechanical arm she had pulled over her shoulder. Adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, making the geth's body feel ten times heavier than it had when they were trying to escape. Not to mention the frustrating way her fingers slid across the smooth, warm metal – it felt so much like flesh, flexing and bending, but it was too hard and unyielding to be anything other than a mass of metal and polymers. Tailing close behind them, Mordin had his omni tool out, studying the deactivated machine as they shuffled along.

"Tali's going to have kittens." Shepard muttered to herself, immediately regretting voicing her thoughts.

"Tali's anger equivalent to giving birth to small adorable native Earth species? I do not understand how-"

"Give me a break Mordin," Shepard sighed. The geth slipped a little and Garrus growled in frustration as he stumbled over one of its legs. Pulling the body up a little higher, she continued through gritted teeth. "Where do you think we should store this thing?"

"AI core seems logical," Mordin answered absently, once again focused on his scans more than anything else.

"How is that logical?" Garrus rumbled as he gave a few members of the bridge crew a sideways look, causing the recipients to quickly turn back to their stations. "Shouldn't we keep this thing locked up as far from EDI as possible?" He looked over at Shepard.

Mordin 'tsk'ed the turian's apparently ridiculous suggestion. "EDI first line of defence against geth hacking ship. Can quarantine entire room if geth becomes hostile."

Shepard's comm. beeped and she swore under her breath before answering it, knowing full well who it would be.

"Shepard."

"Is it true you just brought a geth on board?" Tali was, as the Commander had expected, enraged. The waver in her voice was hard to miss.

"Yes." The word hissed from Shepard's lips and she cursed quietly, her shoulder cramping under the weight of the geth. "We're taking it to the AI core," she managed before the comm. clicked off. At least they were at the elevator; it should buy them a few extra minutes before having to suffer Tali's wrath.

There was a moment while they waited, expecting Mordin to call the elevator for them. But when no help came, Garrus let out a grunt as he impatiently raised a leg up high and kicked the elevator control with his boot. Shepard felt her eyebrow arching, even as she struggled to pick up the slack when his hold loosened.

"Thanks for the help, Mordin," Garrus mumbled sarcastically as they lurched forward into the elevator and let the geth slide to the floor. Mordin didn't respond, still focused on his omni tool and the mechanical body now at his feet.

Shepard once again felt the intense gaze of the turian across from her, but when she lifted her eyes to meet it he quickly glanced down at the motionless mass of wires and metal.

"Tali sounded... excited."

"Yeah…" Shepard huffed as she squatted. Lifting one of the machine's long sinewy arms, she twisted it as she studied it more closely. "After Tali's through with me, I can only hope Cerberus has the money to resurrect me again."

Garrus huffed a short laugh. "You really think it's friendly?" he asked as he reached down and pulled the limp machine forward, removing the rifle from its back. Shepard dropped the mechanical arm and stood up.

"Geth attempts to communicate unexpected, definitely deserves further investigation. Possible ally and source of invaluable information," Mordin cut in, proving once again that his hearing was selective, as Shepard had suspected. Garrus, meanwhile, had expanded the geth's sniper rifle and was now giving it an appreciative look.

"This is one hell of a weapon." He turned it over in his hands. "I might even say nicer than mine."

Shepard crossed her arms, feigning hurt. "__I__ gave you your rifle. Spectre grade."

"Yeah, over two years ago. Don't get me wrong, it's a great rifle." He was casting her amused looks, almost playful. "But this… this is some piece of work. I think Thane would be jealous." If his words had a double meaning, he was doing a good job of acting innocent. Looking back down at the rifle, his mandibles flared in delight and he gave the machine on the floor a nudge with his boot. "Think this geth would mind if I borrowed it?"

Mordin glanced up from his omni tool for a moment and held out his hand. "Weapon should go to lab. Can investigate design and modifications."

There was a long pause. Obviously crushed he was being asked to give up his new toy, Garrus reluctantly collapsed the rifle and passed it to the old salarian. Mordin hooked the weapon onto his back and returned to scanning the geth.

When the elevator doors opened, Garrus was already dragging the geth up by its arm and Shepard reached down and grabbed the other. There were simultaneous grunts as they heaved the mass of metal and wires up onto their shoulders once again. Successfully getting the geth off the floor, they shuffled past the open stares of the crew in the mess and Chakwas at her desk, as the three crew members crowded into the medbay. Garrus gave a jerky movement as he hoisted the machine a little higher, and the doctor instinctively got to her feet to open the doors to the AI Core.

"Lay it out on that table." Shepard instructed through clenched teeth.

"Can always erect kinetic barriers when you decide to reactivate," Mordin explained as they set the machine down heavily. Just as they stepped away from the body, the doors behind them swished open.

"Here we go," Garrus muttered as the three of them turned.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Shepard?" Tali's voice was incredulous as she stormed angrily into the room. The Commander gave Garrus and Mordin a quick nod and they promptly made their way out, being sure to give the quarian a large berth as they passed.

Shepard waited until they were alone before she spoke. "Tali, I haven't done anything with it yet."

The quarian took a few steps forward, her arms animated with emotion. "Bringing it on board is enough! You're risking the lives of everyone!"

"This one tried to communicate... and you know the council has been trying to contact the geth for years." Shepard felt her hands come up in her typical sign of reassurance. "You can't say you're not a little curious."

Tali folded her arms and seemed to calm down considerably as she waited for Shepard to explain.

"It called me Shepard Commander."

The quarian seemed unconvinced so she tried again.

"There's something different about it. It shot and killed husks that were coming up behind me. Plus it's wearing a piece of N7 armour… doesn't that seem odd?"

There was a long pause and Shepard wished for the millionth time that she could see the quarian's face. A quirk of an eyebrow, a twitch of her lips, anything to reveal a clue about what she was thinking. Shepard always felt like she was at a distinct disadvantage while dealing with the masked race.

"Look…" Tali sighed, leaning back against one of the ship's mainframes. "I want to trust your judgement, but you saw what happened to the Alarei – and I was only sending them pieces of geth. We might be on a suicide mission, but I don't want us to all end up dead before we even reach the omega 4 relay."

Stepping forward, Shepard tilted her head sympathetically. "The deaths on board the Alarei weren't your fault." Her words were genuine, but at the same time she wouldn't have denied it was a ploy to diffuse Tali's anger.

The quarian dropped her head. "Maybe not directly, but if I hadn't been sending my father those geth parts..."

A ripple of guilt worked its way through Shepard as she watched Tali glance down at her hands. If the quarian was crying, she would never know. As Commander it was her responsibility to keep the ship and its crew in line, but as a friend, she had let Tali down. Here was someone who had been at her side for so long, who had been through so much, and yet they had barely spoken.

So blinded by the mission, the people around her had simply been drifting in and out of focus.

"I know we haven't had a lot of time to talk," Shepard began. Her armour clunked as she leaned against the mainframe beside Tali. Her feet were set out farther so that her shoulders would rest at about the same height as the woman beside her. She was well aware that it was all about body language when it came to quarians. "How have you been?"

Together they looked at the bank of machines on the other side of the room. There was nothing but the dull hum of the computers for a long time.

"Sleeping is difficult," Tali finally said warily. "But I'd assume that's true for most of the crew."

Shepard sighed and nodded. "Chakwas' reports show she's been prescribing five times the normal amount of sleep aids the past week."

"That's not surprising. Everyone is aware that we're getting close…"

__To the end.__ Shepard finished in her mind. The quarian shuffled her feet. "Kal has messaged me a few times. He's been keeping me up to date about the flotilla."

"I'm sure he has." The change in subject was welcome, and Shepard could feel herself smiling at the tone of her friend's voice. Tali let her head fall back a little, and Shepard would have sworn she was rolling her eyes.

"Just trivial things, but it helps remind me why we're doing all this."

"He's seems like a decent man – definitely a good soldier, and he obviously cares for you." Shepard was being sincere, but Tali shrugged off the remark. It occurred to her that the quarian might not want to hear any of those things considering she might never get to see Kal'Reegar again. She let the subject drop.

"What about you? Looks like it was a rough battle." Tali words seemed innocent enough. She tilted her head, the light reflecting off the glass of her mask. Up close, Shepard sometimes felt like she was talking to herself in the mirror when she spoke to Tali, her words reflected back at her in lavender. When she turned to the quarian, about to ask what she meant, she could see the answer.

Eyes widening, Shepard pushed herself away from the mainframe and found a reflective panel on a nearby bulkhead. She could see why Garrus had been giving her those looks. Raising a hand to rub away the dried blue blood that was smeared across her nose and right cheek, she realized her hand was still covered in blood as well. God, those looks he had been giving her, they were just like the ones she had seen in...

"If I didn't know you better, I would say you were embarrassed," the quarian remarked.

Shepard removed her other glove and rubbed her face with her clean hand. "It's not embarrassment. More like guilt."

"Come on Shepard, talk to me," the quarian prodded.

Dropping her head slightly, she pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the bulkhead as she wondered briefly what it was Tali expected her to confess to. She wasn't exactly sure how to admit to carrying on a very inappropriate relationship with a mutual friend and subordinate. Maybe just blurting it out was the best method.

"Garrus and I... we've been..."

"-Involved in some mutual calibrations, I know," the quarian finished for her, and Shepard wondered if she heard a smirk in the other woman's voice.

Turning to face Tali, she leaned back against the opposite bank of mainframes, mirroring the engineer's stance. She shrugged, trying to play down the whole thing. "Secrets sure don't stay secret for long on a ship this size."

"I don't think the crew has reached a consensus yet, though it has been the topic of hot debate."

Shepard rolled her eyes, in a way she hoped seemed casual. "I'm sure it has."

"It's good to see that you two finally found each other," the quarian muttered. Shepard opened her mouth to comment, but Tali continued. "You should assume, however, that rumours of your relationship have already made it off the ship."

Shepard knew it shouldn't matter who was in her private life, but that wasn't how the real world worked. Politics hadn't really been at the forefront of her mind down in the cargo hold. __The cargo hold__... Hastily, she pushed the thoughts away, concerned she wouldn't be able to control the blush that would betray her.

"In fact I saw Kaidan when we were on the Citadel last." Tali's words caused Shepard's eye brows to shoot up. "He was having a drink with Garrus."

That seemed incredibly odd. Somehow she just couldn't picture it - Garrus and Kaidan sitting at a table, having a drink together? What could they have possibly been talking about? Logic told her Kaidan had no doubt discovered that the Normandy was docked and had gone looking for crew members. But why? She could only think of one reason.

If the Alliance wanted to know exactly where and what she was doing, then they were surely preparing to reel her in for that trial Hackett had warned her about. That was something that couldn't happen - at least not until she was done her mission.

"It was a good thing I arrived in time. They were getting ready to rip each others' heads off." Tali added, folding her arms and shaking her head at the memory.

__What?__

"Thought you just said they were having a drink," Shepard clarified, not thinking her jaw could be hanging any more open than it already was.

"They had been."

"Ah, that's fantastic," Shepard muttered, pressing her fingers against her temple, feeling her mind wanting to give up with exhaustion. Knowing she owed the quarian at least some sort of explanation, she closed her eyes and tried to clarify.

"Kaidan sent me a message, apologizing for his harsh words on Horizon. I never did answer him. At the time I thought it would be better that way." Shepard's eyes opened and she shook her head at the quarian. "At least the two of them didn't get the chance to finish their pissing contest."

"You know... For someone who seems to make a habit of saving the galaxy, you certainly are terrible at handling your personal life." Tali chided.

"I'd be the first to admit it." Shepard let her arms drop back down to her sides. "Garrus and I... There's just so much that's gone unspoken between us. And there's this darkness in his eyes that I don't remember."

Tali's shoulders rose as she took a long breath. "It was hard after you died. You had seemed so invincible, so unbeatable. When Garrus showed up at the space dock looking for you - it was terrible." The quarian was shaking her head. "He started yelling at Kaidan – I will never forget the look on his face." Shepard felt her jaw clench as she listened.

Tali's lavender gaze was penetrating as she uttered her next words. "It was the look of someone who had just lost somebody he loved."

__Somebody he loved__. Her heart constricted with guilt while the pit of her stomach sunk deeper and deeper as she imagined Garrus, frantically pushing his way through the chaos at the docking bay.

"He hardly spoke after that." Tali continued. "Even at your funeral, he seemed unable to say anything at all. I used to send him extranet messages, but he only responded for a few weeks and then I never heard from him again. Two years is a long time... everyone changed."

"Everyone but me." The words fell from Shepard's lips as though Tali had forgotten to add them to the end of her sentence.

"That's not true."

There was a long silence before Shepard mustered the nerve to say what was really on her mind.

"God, Tali. I can bring down a krogan with a pistol, I can hunt a spectre, I can kill a thresher maw on foot, I can even come back from the dead. But I can't talk to the people closest to me." Turning away from the quarian, Shepard approached the geth, planting her hands on the table and leaning heavily against it. Eyes on the floor, she continued. "This thing between us… it's selfish and unprofessional. We throw ourselves at each other and then just as quickly I push him away. And he takes it – he accepts my cold shoulder and just keeps coming back."

A sigh escaped her lips. For so many years she had worked to keep her emotions on a leash. Losing one's entire family could do that to a person. It seemed safer for everyone involved if she could just be a tool - for the Alliance, for Cerberus, for justice, peace, compassion or whatever cause required a leader. Dying had only proved to her how important it was to keep everyone around her just far enough away. But Garrus… she would be lying to herself if she said she didn't recognize the feelings he was provoking.

"I... My guilt is from my indulgence. I am not in a position to have a relationship, Tali. My... feelings for Garrus are what's eating away at me. How can I... " Her voice softened. "How can I allow myself to love if I know it's only going to cause pain?" Shepard absently ran a stained hand through her hair as she continued quietly. "The passion is almost frightening, but it won't be enough to save us from reality. Let's face it Tali, my story isn't going to have a happy ending and Garrus deserves better."

The air was heavy with anticipation as Shepard waited for the consequences of her confession. Finally the quarian spoke.

"I suppose you think acting like this is somehow noble – keeping everyone at an acceptable distance?"

Shepard turned from the inactive geth, staring in surprise at Tali. It wasn't often that people were so honest with her, and she couldn't help but go on the defensive. "It's hard not to when you come back from the grave and everyone tells you how awful it was after you died."

"That doesn't mean any of us would have preferred to have never met you." Tali's voice was angry, but it lowered as she continued. "Garrus isn't a child, Shepard. He is completely aware of the risks and dangers of being with you."

Dropping her eyes to the floor, she heard Tali step forward. Gently, the quarian placed a hand on her Commander's arm. "You've done so much for me Shepard – prevented my exile and saved my life any number of times. Listen to me when I tell you that you have the same right to happiness as everyone else in this galaxy."

The Commander of the Normandy found she had no appropriate response. She couldn't bring herself to look up at the quarian, disgusted with her own display of fragility and perhaps a little fearful of the woman she would see reflected back at her. A long moment went by and Tali must have realized Shepard wasn't willing to continue their discussion.

"You're going to activate it, aren't you?" The quarian finally said.

"Eventually, yes." Shepard affirmed, still kept her eyes lowered.

Her voice resigned, Tali nodded in acceptance. "At least have security down here."

"I'll take every precaution."

There was a rustle of clothing, and Shepard finally looked up to see Tali paused at the door. "Funny - you'll risk the lives of the entire crew so you can exchange words with a geth, but you won't risk being emotionally available for the sake of your own happiness."

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__Though he had only been on the Normandy for two shifts, he still knew who it was as soon as the elevator door opened. Her voice was strong, but even through his translator her lips gave the turian words he heard a smooth musical quality. __

"__Garrus, suit up. We're going planet side." __

__Closing the haptic console beside the mako, he turned to his Commander. She was already half way across the room and she gave the gunnery chief a nod. "Williams, go fill up on medi-gel, you're coming with us."__

__The other woman gave a quick 'Aye Commander', shooting the turian a dismissive look as she passed him on her way to the elevator. While he was excited about heading out with the Commander for the first time since leaving the Citadel, Garrus couldn't say he was looking forward to having a human like Williams watching his back. __

"__Garrus."__

"__Yes Commander?" He had stopped at his locker, pausing to listen to his superior officer. She gave him a quick nod to indicate he should continue to get ready while they spoke.__

"__I know you're worried about Williams. Don't be. She's a good soldier." Shepard opened one of the lockers, pulling her armour from it. "That's why I want you along. The more exposure she gets to other species, the better." __

"__Understood, Commander," Garrus responded, noticing Shepard was stripping off her uniform. He stilled, his hand resting on his locker. She wasn't getting completely undressed, and he knew enough about human anatomy - but he had never been this close. He found himself looking at the wide expanse of pale flesh that stretched across her back. The vertebrae of her spine moved and rippled, the muscles of her back and thighs clearly visible under her thin skin. Humans seemed so fragile.__

__Turians had made that assumption once before and paid the price, Garrus thought to himself.__

"__Beside, I'm looking forward to seeing you in action. Aside from those small firefights on the Citadel, I haven't fought beside a turian before." She was pulling on her armour now, doing up the clasps along her left thigh. It was her hair that had his attention now. Sure, he had touched human hair a few times, but it had been while taking down drunk and disorderly civilians in his early C-Sec days. That hair had been greasy and wiry. His Commander's hair was intriguing. It was a light colour he hadn't often seen, fine threads that danced as she moved. And it smelled different than the rest of her, as though she washed it with a different scent.__

"__You know, if Williams ever catches you watching her like that, you'll find yourself looking down the barrel of an assault rifle. And that's if you're lucky."__

"__Oh... I..." Garrus quickly dropped his head, feeling incredibly foolish. "Sorry Commander, it's been too many years since cultural studies classes back in military academy. I forgot humans consider it rude to stare."__

__Shaking her head, she was apparently unfazed by his curiosity. "I'm sure you'll get your fair share of curious looks. Just try not to be quite so obvious about it." __

__He nodded as he removed his helmet from his locker, but there was still one detail that was nagging him. "If I may ask, isn't your locker on deck two?"__

"__Still investigating, Officer Vakarian?" Shepard looked up at him as she pulled on a boot and closed the seal with her suit.__

__Garrus swore to himself. Some example he was being of the turian race. "Forgive me Commander I was merely – "__

"__-making an observation?" She smiled as she stood up and gave him a hard slap on the shoulder. "Relax Garrus. I want you to ask questions and give me your input." She moved past him and over to the table where Williams spent most of her time. Even though Shepard seemed unperturbed, he was still kicking himself inwardly. He really needed to brush up on human etiquette if he was going to be spending time on board the Normandy. __

"__To answer your question," she continued, "I keep most of my things down here. Something about prepping for a mission in front of people eating feels too much like bad dinner theatre."__

__Before he could open his mouth to ask about dinner theatre, she thrust a rifle into his hands. Looking down he was surprised to realize he was holding a spectre grade sniper rifle. Turning it over, he cradled it almost reverently. It was easily the nicest weapon he had ever gotten his talons on.__

"__Chellick mentioned you were good with a rifle, and after seeing your accuracy with a pistol, I figured you should have something befitting your talents."__

__"Commander..." he muttered, his voice trailing off. A sudden surge of excitement rippled through him. This human female understood. Finally he was being given the tools and the opportunity to enforce justice across the galaxy. He might actually get the chance to undo some of the damage Saren had done to turian honour.__

"__Whenever we are in wide open spaces, or with any kind of vantage point, I want to see that sniper rifle in your hands." Shepard gave him a pleased look. "Your eyes are better than any human's on the ship, so I'm counting on you to keep the team alerted. Follow Williams' lead, I'm sure you'll pick up my signals and if you have any concerns, voice them."__

__Nodding enthusiastically, Garrus collapsed the rifle and attached it to his back. "You got it, Commander."__

"__Good." Shepard nodded as the elevator doors opened and the Normandy's gunnery chief reappearing with medi-gel in hand.__

"__Commander, I finished installing those upgrades on your pistol." Williams gave Garrus another suspicious look as she offered him a handful of dextro medi-gel. After his talk with Shepard however, Garrus was feeling substantially more confident, so he cocked his head to the side and gave the gunnery chief what to him was a friendly smile. The woman clenched her jaw, uncertain what to make of his flared mandibles and exposed teeth.__

"__Williams, suit up. Vakarian-" She slapped her pistol to her thigh, "into the mako."__

__There were simultaneous 'Aye Commander's, and Garrus headed towards the land vehicle, Shepard close behind. As they climbed in, he felt her nudge him towards the driver's seat.__

"__Commander I-"__

"__-am going to drive? It's good of you to volunteer." Her firm hand on his shoulder pushed him down into the seat as she slid past him.__

"__Your file said you've got armoured vehicle training. Besides, it can't be all that different from a turian IFV."__

__Glancing down at the console, Garrus found the symbols unfamiliar and frighteningly alien. He wasn't confident in his ability to not get them all killed, but Shepard didn't seem bothered by his obvious hesitation. Just as he was planning to voice his worries, Williams slid in behind them.__

__There was a moment of shocked silence as she realized who driving.__

"__Commander-" __

"__Williams, I want you to talk Officer Vakarian through the landing procedure." Shepard pressed the comm. "Alright Joker, open the doors."__

__There was a muffled response from the pilot and then a crack of bright light as the planet's atmosphere reflected the orange light from the K-class star into the relative darkness of the ship. Garrus' hands hovered over the controls as he tried to decipher what he was looking at. __

"__It's all about adaptability, Garrus." Shepard punched a few things into the mako's controls then looked over at him. Turning his head to meet her serious gaze, she nodded at him without any shred of doubt. __

"__I'll be right beside you, so don't worry."__

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It was a long time before Shepard stepped through the med bay doors. On one of the mess hall tables lay her helmet and her missing glove, both neatly arranged in a location she was sure not to miss. Tossing the glove into helmet, she tucked it underneath one arm as she felt her eyes drift down towards the main battery.

When she reached the doors she took her helmet in her right hand and reached for the door control with the other. Her chat with Tali had given her a lot to think about, and she felt her hand hesitate. Before she could make up her mind, the doors whooshed open. Frozen, her hand still in the air, she started blankly at Garrus who was looking at her with his arms crossed and his head cocked to the side.

"How long were you going to stand there like that?" His mandibles twitched in amusement.

"Actually I hadn't decided." She stepped in and the doors closed behind her. "How did you know it was me?"

"I could smell you coming," he answered matter-of-factly, then frowned at the horrified look on her face. Immediately he started back peddling. "Wait, that's offensive to humans, isn't it? What I meant was I recognized your particular scent-" He stopped short again, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I'm not explaining this well."

Frowning, she waved him quiet. "Look, forget it. That's not why I came down here." There was an awkward silence.

These were the moments that got her in trouble. They were alone, and in the absence of conversation, the more primal, emotional part of her brain subtly took over. Shepard felt herself stepping closer to him, instinctively reaching for the collar of his armour. Responding in turn, he placed his gloved hands on the curves of her hips. Distracted, her fingers slackened and the sound of her helmet clattered to the floor echoed through the large room. Already her heart was racing and she quickly forgot her reason for being there.

He hummed low in his throat. "Have I ever told you how erotic it is when you pull that rocket launcher out?"

Shepard snorted a surprised laugh, her previously dark thoughts vanishing. "You got a thing for women holding big guns?"

"Maybe," he murmured as his head bent down towards her. She could hear the heavy breaths he was dragging through his nostrils, see the way his mandibles fluttered with anticipation. Eyes bright and expectant, she couldn't help but let her loose hand drift up to his hip and press against the flexible material at the joint in his armour. And just like that his control was broken.

Growling he spun her around, pressing her up against the main battery console as his talons fought with the clasps running down the front of her uniform. His head dipped down to snuffle along every inch as it was exposed, and she shuddered. The smooth plates of his forehead rubbed against the soft flesh of her throat, his fringe dancing like knives in front of her eyes.

"God Garrus..." His talons had slipped beneath her top and she could feel his teeth nibbling the edge of her bra. "Is it always going to be like this?" Her words came out in a sigh as his tongue made contact with her skin.

"If it is, they may have to lock me away until you're done saving the galaxy... otherwise we are all doomed."

Words were overrated, she mused as his tongue returned to her. Wait, she'd had a reason to be there; she'd want to ask him a question, hadn't she?

"I wanted to ask… wanted to…" She couldn't get the words out. The single sentence request only sank deeper into her throat as she felt Garrus drag his claws up her back.

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Joker's eyes went wide in horror for only a moment before they returned to their normal look of disinterest. It was tough not to look away from a train wreck, but he had learned that staring too intently at his console only raised the alarm. It would have EDI all over him like Harbinger on Shepard – well actually that comparison wasn't exactly accurate at the moment. He hid his smirk and, casually, he tapped his comm.

"Kelly, can you come up here for a moment?" As he spoke he closed the display in front of him. It was less than a minute before the yeoman was at his side.

The pilot gave her a charming smile. "Can you give this datapad to Garrus? I mentioned it to him earlier, but he must have forgotten. I'd take it to him myself but…" he down looked at his legs, "you know."

For a moment he was worried his smile may have been so charming that it was borderline suspicious, but eventually Kelly sighed, took the datapad and headed towards the elevator.

Turning back to the screen, Joker couldn't help the slight curl of his lips. Time to sit back and watch the show.

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She was still trying to talk to him, but her words had become disjointed and rather meaningless. Garrus had been speaking too, but she couldn't understand him – not with her uniform pulled open and his face plastered against her. Sitting on the main battery console, her hands rested on the head of the turian who was nibbling and licking every bit of exposed flesh he could reach.

Through his growling she had only understood two words, 'face' and 'crazy', before his ramblings were once again reduced to unintelligible rumbles and murmurs.

"Garrus, I wanted to…" she tried again, but she was quickly realizing that just saying his name only spurred him on further. He was driving her crazy and she was unable to focus on what exactly she was trying to say. Her brain just kept screaming its approval of what he was doing. It felt so good to just let go and feel.

If this wasn't indoctrination, she didn't know what was.

There was a sudden sound that seemed out of place – it wasn't the rustle of clothing, soft voices or flesh against flesh, but something else. Shepard felt Garrus freeze, and she opened her eyes.

"Oh shit. Sorry… " The sound had been the door. Kelly had a hand over her mouth, already doing an about face and exiting back the way she had come.

Horrified, they were both perfectly still as the door closed and they were left alone once again. Garrus' face remained pressed against her damp flesh, his hot breath tickling her skin into a fit of goose bumps. The situation they were in was so absurd it was almost funny. Shepard felt a smile tug at her lips, and her shoulders involuntarily shook as she tried to stop herself from laughing. But it was too much to contain as she realized her turian lover's fringe was bobbing with laughter too.

"At least it was Kelly and not another member of the crew – probably would have scarred them for life." Garrus murmured against her, still chuckling to himself. The interruption was just enough time for Shepard to pull herself together and say the words she had been trying to say since she had stepped foot into the main battery.

"Garrus, I came down here to ask if you…" Feeling oddly embarrassed, she looked away, before forcing herself to look at him. Having removed his face from her, he was leaning back just enough so that his armour wouldn't rub against her uncomfortably. Still, he was standing quite close, head cocked to the side in an expression Shepard recognized as a big question mark.

Involuntarily setting her shoulders she shook herself inwardly. She was goddamn Commander Shepard, she was not afraid of anything.

"I wanted to know if you would stay with me tonight." His expression changed immediately to an obvious leer. She shook her head. "No, no sex… just… us."

The leer faded and he seemed to be considering her words. She wondered if he realized she was trying to offer him more than just the physical release they had become so comfortable with. Tenderly, he reached for the lapels of her uniform, pulled them back into place and smoothed out the rumpled fabric. His talons fumbled with the small clasps, realizing they were easier undone than done up.

"Just us?" he repeated back to her, looking up from successfully doing up the last clasp. She felt his hands come to rest on either side of her ribcage.

As she placed a cool hand against the scarred side of his face, his eyes closed and Shepard felt part of her scream in protest. Just his touch, his breath, his faint metallic smell, the way he laughed and fought, how his mandibles quivered - he brought her so much joy. She deserved to be happy, Tali had said, but how could she shake the guilt - the awful feeling that the closer she let him get, the more terrible a person she was.

When his eyes reopened he was looking back at her patiently. His gaze was so certain, so completely open and accepting – she realized when he had said he would follow her into hell, he had truly meant it. She bit her lip and made a decision.

"Just us."

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	11. Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

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__Beige clouds of grit and dirt spun around them in angry gusts, the larger pebbles clinking against his helmet in an almost constant ebb and flow. The sound had become so steady that Garrus was starting to feel like he was standing next to an ocean. Every breath he took he expected to inhale a mouthful of Edolus' dry dusty atmosphere, but his suit was sealed and he knew it was just his imagination getting the better of him. The spectre grade sniper rifle rested easily in the crook of his hip, talon hanging loosely in front of the trigger. Normally he would have it collapsed in this kind of weather, but his Commander had specifically told him to wait at the ready. That had been almost twenty minutes ago...__

"__The source of that distress beacon should be coming into view." Shepard had said earlier. She had been relatively quiet since they landed, letting Williams instruct him about the different controls and features of the mako, but they had gotten closer to their target now. Garrus had still been riding on the swell of pride he'd felt when he'd impressed her with his surprisingly graceful landing. Of course Williams had been quick to take her share of Shepard's praise as his instructor, but he didn't mind. __

__Frowning at the controls, Garrus had wondered if he had enough credits in his account to pick up a better visor the next time they were at the Citadel – he'd been putting off purchasing one that translated text on the fly. But after having to get a driving lesson in front of a commanding officer and spectre, it definitely seemed like a worthwhile investment now.__

__Firing the thrusters of the mako, he'd hopped it up over some jagged rocks before tapping the anti friction brakes to let the loose dirt carry them in a smooth skid around the base of an overhang. __

"__Show off," he'd heard Williams mutter in the back and he'd smiled to himself. __

__If this was what Alliance soldiers got to do while on duty, he was starting to wonder if he had been born the wrong species. Giving the mako a little more juice, Garrus had brought the vehicle bouncing up over the top of the ridge.__

"__Looks like the turian is a natural," Williams had announced somewhat reluctantly, though the nag had left her voice some time earlier. She was almost beginning to sound proud of his progress under her direction. "Just make sure you watch for falling debris, I don't want to-"__

"__Stop," Shepard had ordered. Her words abruptly ended their friendly banter, and Garrus had immediately brought the mako to a jarring halt. A few bounces and everything was still. They were perched atop a shallow point in a long ridge of rocky hills, which swept around in a wide arc and converge at a larger peak that could just be made out through the blowing sand. Within the arc was a relatively low lying, flat dusty plain, possibly an old impact creator. Near the centre he could see a vehicle and what looked like debris littered across the ground, though it was hard to tell. A tall blinking object stood nearby – most likely the distress beacon. __

"__Looks like Alliance," Garrus had remarked, not sure if the humans could see it as clearly as he could. Glancing expectantly at his Commander, his talons had hovered above the console, waiting for the signal to continue. Instead, she'd brought up a display from the mako's controls and zoomed in on the site. The image quality hadn't been great; the particles of sand in the air had caused the auto focus to stutter, so she'd switched it over to an information feed from the scanners. __

"__Looks like the power cells still have a charge… But no other heat signatures. Analysis?" Shepard had asked, frowning as she scrutinized the data.__

"__Definitely Alliance – M29 Grizzly IFV. Beacon doesn't look standard issue though," Williams had rattled off confidently. "Not sure what's scattered on the ground. We should definitely go in for a closer look."__

__Garrus had twisted his head around, trying to get a firsthand look of the terrain through the mako's narrow viewing windows - carefully scanning the cliffs and rocky points that stretched out around them on either side. __

"__What about you, Vakarian?" Shepard had asked in her typical causal commander tone. The use of his last name immediately drew his attention back to her____.__

"__The area looks deserted but..." shaking his head, he had looked back out into the dust bowl. "I don't know, it just doesn't feel right." __

"__Agreed. This scene seems a little contrived… smells like ambush to me." Shepard had shifted in her seat, leaning forward.__

"__Commander, what if we destroyed the beacon from here with the mako's cannon?" Garrus had offered. __

__Moistening her bottom lip, she considered his suggestion. Distractedly, he had noticed the many fingers of her left hand tapping idly along the edge of her seat and briefly he'd wondered why any species would ever need so many digits. __

"__What do you think, Williams?" Shepard's voice had sounded distracted and he had imagined her considering hundreds of options in her head.__

"__I still think we should drive in. The mako's armour and shields will protect us against any surprises. Besides, this place looks completely deserted. If we blow up the site with the cannon we won't be able to investigate."__

__Fingers pausing, Garrus had watched his commander's large green eyes quickly sweep across the line of hills to their left before sitting back in her seat and tapping in new co-ordinates into the mako's guidance system.__

"__Take us to the new co-ordinates," Shepard had ordered as she glanced over at him. "Williams, you and Garrus will take up position on that ridge. It's an excellent vantage point and the tall rocks will give you good cover while I take the mako up to the beacon to investigate."__

__The inside of the vehicle had fallen silent for a moment as Shepard waited for any protests. When there were none, Garrus had obediently hit the accelerator and drove the mako up to the top of the ridge. When they'd arrived, all three latched on their helmets; Garrus and Ashley securing their weapons to their backs before climbing out of the mako and landing on the ground with a dry crunch. __

__Shepard had peered out at them from inside the vehicle. __"__Stay alert. If we're overwhelmed, contact Joker, have him bring in the Normandy. Under no circumstances should either of you step foot off this ridge."__

"__Aye, Commander," they'd answered in unison. __

__As the mako had pulled away, it churned up a fresh cloud of dust that floated up around them. Thankfully, the wind was stronger along the ridge, and the air had cleared a little as Garrus watched Shepard drive out of view. Carefully he and Williams made their way up to the stony point, the loose, dry soil shifted beneath his feet sending his partner's hand grasping for him. They had exchanged a brief, awkward glance before continuing to the top. Taking up his roost between two large rocks, he'd scanned the surrounding hills and then wreckage through the scope of his rifle. A grimace had crossed his face as he recognized what the 'debris' actually was that was scattered around the grizzly. __

"__Commander, we've got bodies - I count five, mmmm...maybe six." __

_"___Understood," she'd replied into her comm., no hint of surprise in her voice____.__

__That's where they were now, standing on a sand blasted point overlooking the massive desert valley. Williams wiped away the sand that was accumulating in the crevices in her helmet, her eyes still glued to the wreckage. __

__Just as he was about to ask Shepard to check in, the mako reappeared, thrusters lifting it over a row of heavily eroded boulders. __"__Report." Shepard's voice was clipped and to the point. Far below him the mako rolled up to the site and pulled up parallel to the other vehicle. As the dust settled the plain was eerily still.__

"__Negative movement, Commander." Garrus replied dutifully, feeling all of his old turian military training coming back to him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Williams tap her helmet's visor, zooming in her view, anxious just as he was to be watching their commander from so far away. The hatch on the mako opened, and Garrus raised his rifle's scope to his eye to watch as Shepard hopped out of the vehicle. Tracking her as she approached the first body, he saw her pause and look up to where they were perched on the ridge.__

"__Garrus, you want to take my head out of your scope? I don't doubt your steady hand, but honestly, you're making me a bit nervous." __

__Quickly he dropped the gun from his eye. "Sorry Commander," he said into his comm. Beside him Williams snickered. __

__With his visor, he watched Shepard squat down beside one of the fallen soldiers for a closer look. __"__We've got six Alliance marines," she relayed back to them as her hands skimmed over the corpse. "They've been out here too long for me to judge what killed them." Standing, he could see her scrutinizing the abandoned vehicle. "Grizzly's armour looks damaged in a few places but..." she was shaking her head, "it doesn't look like mass accelerator damage or gun fire. Hard to tell – damn thing's been sandblasted for who knows how long."__

__From body to body she moved, checking each corpse thoroughly before moving on to the next one.__ "__Looks like she's collecting tags. Bodies must be in rough shape." Williams observed.__

__Hoisting herself up onto the grizzly, Shepard pried open the hatch and disappeared inside. Something still didn't feel right, and Garrus nervously shifted his rifle to his other hip. The dust picked up again and he groaned inwardly, trying to shake the accumulating silica from the creases in the surface of his gun. He didn't need his superstitious aunt Arxa predicting his future in her kitchen to be able to foresee all the hours of gun disassembly and cleaning he'd be doing. His mandibles fluttered; he missed his family.__

__"Ok, I've collected all the information I can." His commanders voice crackled through on the comm., and it shook him from his daydream. "I'm setting the power cells to overload. One shot from the mako's cannon should do it."__

__Garrus sent a questioning glance at Williams, and thankfully, she offered an explanation. "Alliance protocol. If vehicles or equipment cannot be salvaged then they are destroyed." She crossed her arms idly, eyes turned to the plain. __

__Just as this mission was beginning to feel like mandatory military service on some quiet, make work outpost, something caught Garrus's eye. Raising his rifle he scanned the ground through his scope.__

"__What? Did you see something?" Williams asked, unclasping her assault rifle from her back in anticipation of potential action.__

__Through his sights, Garrus scanned the ground where he thought he'd seen movement, then returned his gaze to the abandoned grizzly to see Shepard finally emerging. Lowering the rifle, he scanned the expanse before him - but saw nothing. He hadn't been able to shake the uneasy feeling he had, and he raised the scope to his eye again and checked the spot where he was sure he had seen something. Oddly, the ground looked as though it were vibrating, sinking even. With all the swirling dust he just couldn't be certain if he was imagining it or not. Then, one solitary rock rolled down in to the centre of the small depression and Garrus knew he wasn't imagining anything.__

"__Commander, we've got movement. Left of the mako's position. The ground – appears to be moving."__

"__Understood," Shepard answered. She sounded calm, but it was clear his words had lit a fire under her as she leaped off the grizzly and ran for the mako. Just as her hands gripped the vehicle's door, a great plume of dust and dirt spewed from the ground nearby, knocking her backward. __

__Williams jumped in surprise. "Fuck! Thresher maw!" __

__Neither of them was equipped with anything that had both the power and the range required to take down the massive animal from their position. Garrus's mandibles lay tight against his face as he watched helplessly. Shepard had purposely left them on that ridge, knowing the maw wouldn't be able to reach them due to the rocky ground. It was safer for only one person to venture in and not risk the entire group. __

__The giant beast dug its massive claws into the ground just as Shepard scrambled into the mako and sealed the hatch. As the maw's mouth opened, preparing to spit a concoction of green acidic sludge at the motionless vehicle, Garrus took aim at the animal's head, firing off a round that echoed back across the valley. At the same moment the mako roared to life, its tires kicking up a spray of dust and gravel, and its mass accelerator cannon exploding just as the maw spat. Despite the close range, the mako emerged out of the dust cloud unscathed while the giant animal recoiled from the blast it had received to the face. Garrus was certain his shot had landed, but the maw only seemed angrier now. Another round burst from the mako's cannon and the beast retreated back into the ground. __

__"We have to do something!" Williams yelled frantically as she shuffled back and forth along the rocks, desperate to engage the enemy, even if it was suicide.__

__"Both of you stay put," came Shepard's voice over the comm., almost as if she could feel her squad's frustration at watching the battle from afar. The mako was hurtling towards the closest rocky outcrop, but it still had a ways to go. The maw hadn't re-emerged yet, and Garrus anxiously scanned the wide expanse of blowing sand, waiting with resolute attention.__

__Shepard had almost reached safety, and Garrus looked over the scope of his rifled as the vehicle approached the rocks. But just as he was about to let out a sigh of relief, there was a sudden rumble and the ground directly beneath the mako exploded in a burst of sand, somersaulting the vehicle backwards into the air in a shower of rocks and dirt.__

__"The mako can't withstand another direct hit!" Ashley was frantic, her boots sending pebbles and grit trickling over the edge of the ridge as she looked for the quickest way down.__

__"Where are the power cells located in the grizzly?" Garrus demanded, bringing the vehicle into his sights. __

__"What? Uhh... they are...in the very front, near the crew hatch, buried beneath the armour and about a dozen other systems that insulate it inside the vehicle-" As Williams spoke the mako finally righted itself and once again took off towards the rocks, landing another hit with its cannon as it retreated.__

__"Cells are already overloaded, if I can hit them with a tungsten round... it might be enough" his voice trailed off as the grizzly's open hatch fell into the cross hairs of his scope. He popped off one round, and his visor told him he'd missed. He swore to himself, realizing that he was possibly using an unproven rifle. Surely his commander would have tested it and calibrated the sights before offering it to him... __

__The maw roared angrily in the background, and with his other eye, Garrus saw the beast let loose another mouthful of green acid at the mako, causing Shepard to pull a hard right to avoid it. Taking aim again, he let loose two more shots, both entered the hatch, but there seemed to be no effect.__ __Working hard to keep his hands steady, Garrus took a deep breath. Squeezing the trigger he felt the rifle kick back as the crack of his fourth shot turned into the prelude of the explosion – a quick flash and the grizzly was blown to pieces, the shockwave of the power cells shredding the metal and scattering it in all directions.__

__Believing it was under attack from behind, the maw spun around, being peppered by searing hot shrapnel as it did so. The few moments the animal was distracted were all Shepard needed to make it to safety, spinning the mako's turret around and firing one final shot to the back of the animal's head. __

__Lurching forward, it face planted into the dust, a gurgling mass of green goo and gushing insides. Its claws dug shakily into the dirt on either side of it before the enormous body slid lifelessly back into the ground.__

__Garrus let out a shaky breath. He could feel the muscles in his legs trembling. It had been a while since he had felt this sort of adrenaline rush... but hell did it feel good.__

__"Commander Shepard," Williams announced as she turned to Garrus, smiling. "First human spectre, enjoys battling galactic injustice and wrestling thresher maws on the side."__

__Shaking his head, he let out a laugh that had as much to do with her statement as his relief that the battle was over. "Yeah... It's a good thing she's on our side." Finally collapsing his rifle, he winced at the sound of grit grinding in the mechanism. "Her family must be proud."__

__He noticed the smile on Williams' face faltered.__

__"What?" he asked, snapping the rifled to his back. She was shaking her head. "LT told me Shepard doesn't have any family. Watched them get butchered by batarian slavers, along with the rest of her colony. Happened back when she was just a kid." __

__Garrus chided himself inwardly. He vaguely remembered skimming over Shepard's file, but had since forgotten most of the details. He didn't know a lot about human society, but turian orphans were rare. If they weren't adopted by relatives, the lack of family meant they lost their sense of belonging, creating an unbalanced, maladjusted individual. Turian's instinctual desire to belong to a larger group was forfeited the moment they were abandoned. Growing up with the stigma of being barefaced, they were utterly alone. Suicide was common, as was joining mercenary companies and pirates. Outside of bond mating (which was frowned upon with barefaced turians), they might find a clan that was willing to accept them. But earning their tattoos and true acceptance meant initiation; proving themselves in a gruelling display of physical prowess and mental challenges, specifically designed to be nearly impossible. __

__Most turian orphans ended up broken, jailed or dead. But Shepard... she had become a great leader, a Spectre, someone with a bright future and so much to give. Somehow, she had turned nothing into something.__

"__LT said he asked her about it once. Said her crew was her family," Williams said thoughtfully as they watched the trail of dust chase the mako up towards the ridge. It stopped not far off from the two - now silent - squad mates. The door opened, and Shepard stuck her head out. She was covered in fine dust from head to toe.__

__"You two waiting for an invitation?"__

__"No Ma'am!" Williams yelled, and Garrus followed her as they jogged up to the vehicle. Climbing inside, Shepard nodded for Garrus to take her place in the driver's seat.__

__"Williams, I'm surprised you managed to stay put." Her voice was surprisingly light.__

__"It's wasn't easy Commander." __

__"And Garrus," she gave him a quick smile. "Impressive shooting." __

__He nodded, pride swelling inside him. As he watched her tap new co-ordinates into the guidance systems, he felt compelled to ask her something that had been troubling him.__

__"Commander, if you don't mind me asking... How did you know I was watching you through my scope?"__

__She cast him an arched eyebrow and jerked her chin at the viewing window, before looking back down at the mako's controls.__

__"Low sun, caught a reflection off your lens." She nodded at him to move out, and then leaned back in her seat.__ __"That, and I had a feeling you weren't going to let me out of your sights." __

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"Mordin."

Garrus had been standing next the salarian's work station for so long he was beginning to wonder if the old professor even realized he was there.

"Be with you in a moment." Back turned, he was hunched over some experiment or another. There were a few moments of muttering before he finally seemed satisfied with whatever he had been doing. When he turned, the turian was waiting patiently across the table from him. "Have your shot ready. Will you be taking lilium longiflorum with you today?"

"Umm no. I'm saving that... It's still alive?"

"Not alive," the salarian stated. Garrus' mouth opened, but Mordin didn't give him a chance to speak. "Preserved, yes."

The turian's shoulders relaxed as the salarian looked down at his datapad, sending his fingers tapping effortlessly over its surface. "I do not understand the compulsion to give mates the sex organs of dead vegetation..." he muttered to himself. Garrus would have agreed, but he knew it would only spark a long drawn out, one sided exposé on the subject.

Mordin set down the datapad and gave Garrus a serious look as he motioned for him to remove the armour on his arm. Procuring an injector from a nearby cabinet, he set it down on the table as he began to examine the turian's now bare arm.

"Wound healing nicely." His long fingers moved down to Garrus' hand and he leaned in close as he looked at the back of it. "Hand also looking better." Dropping the limb, he motioned the turian to turn his head. Dutifully he did so, pulling down the inner collar of his armour. "Healing of neck wound seems to have plateaued – risk scarring. Human saliva can be very infectious, even to other humans." Mordin frowned. "Haven't been applying medi-gel regularly, have you?"

Garrus' silence was a guilty one. He didn't want to admit that he'd been purposely not applying medi-gel to the bite Shepard had given him. It felt a little foolish, and he swallowed hard at the thought of it.

"Intensity of hormonal attraction illogical. No offspring possible," Mordin complained out loud. Garrus shrugged nonchalantly, knowing his relationship with Shepard was driving the salarian crazy. Actually, he had considered himself pretty lucky the professor hadn't given him a harder time about it. Instead of making a scene in front of the entire bridge crew, Mordin had stopped him outside the AI core, and he and Chakwas had engaged in an impromptu intervention. Neither of them were trying to prevent the relationship, or so they claimed, only 'expressing their concern'. Apparently, he and Shepard were engaging in 'risky behaviour' and that they should both be 'taking steps' to prevent further injury.

They didn't understand at all.

__It was entirely about risk and injury.__

Mordin had still been scolding him about the wound on his neck, but by the time Garrus tuned in, he only caught the long sigh of frustration that concluded the salarian's rant. He must have noticed my eyes glazing over, Garrus thought.

Taking the injector in his right hand, Mordin rotated his patient's plated wrist with the other, until the soft underside of Garrus' upper arm was exposed.

"Third injection will be required before next mission to prevent unnecessary blood loss from injury," Mordin continued as he pressed the injector against Garrus' arm, unperturbed by the turian's lack of interest. Finished, he disposed of the empty injector and turned back to his patient.

Reattaching the pieces of armour, Garrus wiggled his fingers until they reached the end of his glove.

"I almost forgot," Mordin announced, returning to the cabinet and fetching a small container. He dropped in into Garrus' open hand.

"More antihistamines. Human sexual curiosity sometimes... unpredictable."

Quickly, and a little embarrassed, Garrus stuffed the item into his pocket and they both stood quietly for a moment.

"Look Mordin..." he sighed. "I really appreciate your help... with everything."

"Of course, of course," the salarian waved him off dismissively, and then paused when he noticed the earnest look on the turian's face. Mordin's expression softened slightly and he nodded somewhat knowingly.

"Enjoy yourselves... just remember not to ingest."

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__"Normandy, this is ground team, we are heading to the rendezvous co-ordinates."__

__"Roger that, Commander." Joker's voice sounded grainier than usual, the dust and falling debris interfering with their signal. With Williams' direction, Garrus initiated the pickup sequence and with a strong burn of the thrusters, the mako rolled safely into the Normandy's cargo hold. They were all in high spirits, their trip to the surface had been incredibly productive - discovering the fate of Admiral Kahoku's men had meant he and their families would finally get some closure, while salvaging a crashed probe and finding the salarian ID tag had been bonuses.__

__All without being killed by a thresher maw or falling debris.__

__And Shepard had to admit, she was pleasantly surprised by her two new crew members. Both were eager, though perhaps a little impulsive, but they had been able to work together easily. For the first time in a long while, Shepard was looking forward to writing up a mission report.__

__Garrus cut the power to the mako and he and Ashley grabbed their gear and climbed out through the hatch. Following behind them, Shepard stepped out of the vehicle, only to find Lieutenant Alenko waiting for them. __

"__Commander, a moment?" __

__She nodded, taking a second to brush some of the dust and grit from her armour before making her way towards him. Garrus and Ashley were at their lockers, she could hear them chatting and she smiled inwardly. __

__"Shepard... Err, Commander... " Kaidan seemed surprisingly agitated, and she felt her head tilting on its own accord, not really sure what had him so worked up.__

__"Speak freely. What's on your mind Lieutenant?"__

__He sighed. "I don't think it's wise of you to take two new crew members, both unproven in battle, into a hostile environment like that."__

__"I've seen both of them in battle, and I have no doubts about their abilities. If they are going to become better soldiers, then they need to see more combat." Shepard crossed her arms. "What's really the problem here?"__

__Kaidan looked down at the floor and Shepard felt a bit badly for him. He had it rough - the chequered past, the lost childhood, the stigma of being a biotic and the migraines he suffered. He was a good soldier, she just didn't have the heart to tell him that she planned on leaving him behind on any side mission that was on a planet with little atmosphere. Chakwas had told her that bright light triggered his migraines and she didn't need to be dragging around a soldier who was suffering from a mind splitting headache. __

__It didn't help that he obviously cared for her.__

__"I can't believe you were down there fighting a thresher maw," he said bleakly. "I wish you would take me with you. You need someone who can watch your back."__

__"You know I take who I think is best suited for the mission," Shepard answered carefully.__

__Realizing she wasn't going to continue, he nodded and she turned towards the lockers. She passed Ashley, who had already changed, and Shepard heard the door of the elevator leave with both her and Kaidan inside. __

__Opening her locker, Shepard began removing the guns attached to her back. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Garrus giving her an enquiring look, but as she turned her head, he became once again engrossed with his sniper rifle, which he had laid out before him. Carefully he wiped away the fine layer of silica on the gun, checking and rechecking the creases along the side.__

"__Nice work down there Garrus." __

"__Thank you Commander." He glanced up from his rifle and his mandible twitched. Perhaps that was a smile? He was so... interesting. __

__There was a long silence between them, filled only with the sound of her unclipping her armoured enviro-suit and Garrus' ungloved talons clicking against the surface of his gun. She noticed him staring at the rifle and it occurred to her that working in C-Sec meant his weapon would have been given scheduled maintenance by people paid for by the Citadel.__

__Shepard had to hide her smile at the double entendre. __

__Who knows when the last time he had disassemble a rifle had been. And she could bet he had never taken apart a Spectre Grade weapon before. As he tugged on what should have been the back release, she came up beside him.__

"__You can dismantle an armoured, M29 Grizzly IFV with a bullet, but you can't take apart your own rifle?" She was smiling, but he glanced down, embarrassed. __

_"This model... I've never... and i___t's been a while since-" He started to explain and she immediately felt guilty. He was on a strange ship, working alongside a species that viewed him with suspicion and mistrust - and now his commander was teasing him. __

__Shaking her head, she took the weapon from him, "I'm just giving you a hard time Garrus, look-" Flipping the rifle over, she pointed to a small, inlaid panel. "The Spectre Master Series has anti-tampering safeties." Just as she had watched the turian guarding the stocks at C-Sec do, she depressed as series of points on the gun and there was a loud click. __

__Snapping it back into place she passed him the rifle. Watching his alien hands grip the weapon and follow the same pattern hers had moments before, she couldn't help but study his movements - the slightly glassy shine of his talons, the rough skin and metallic plates that crept out from underneath the cuffs of his armour. The rifle gave a hollow click and a light poof of fine sand particles drifted to the table. __

__His mandibles flared slightly and he nodded his thanks. As his sharp avian eyes met hers, their bright intensity stole Shepard's gaze for perhaps a little longer than they should have. __

"__Did the lieutenant have a problem with the mission?" he suddenly asked.__

__She shook her head slowly, distracted. "No..." she lied. "I think he just doesn't like to be left behind."__ __What she wanted to say was that Kaidan's interest in her meant he expected to be taken along. That he was beginning to constantly worry about the danger, about the risks, about her. It was both endearing and frustrating.__

__Garrus' mandibles fluttered and she felt some curious part of her demand she reach out and touch the strange appendages. Her mouth opened, but the sound of the elevator door opening behind them jolted her back to reality. Over her shoulder she saw Kaidan re-enter the cargo hold, his eyes finding hers and she suddenly realized how close she was standing to the turian. __

__What the hell was she doing?__

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What had he said to Shepard in that krogan hospital?

__There's no pep talk like a military pep talk. __

A military pep talk would be perfect right now - from Shepard… with nothing on, and a grenade launcher in her hands.

__Spirits, that kind of thinking wasn't helping. __

Garrus stood alone in the men's room. There was no mirror, so instead he was regarding his blurry reflection in the metallic edging that ran along the outside of the showers. The turian that looked back at him seemed like a stranger. Sure, the scars were looking a little better, and the protective bandage would be coming off soon... but really – going through hell had left its marks, inside and out.

__What do you see when you look at me, Shepard?__

Reaching into his pocket for the tenth or so time, his fingers nervously brushed against the object that was causing him so much grief. Down in the main battery, when he hadn't been fantasizing about some of the more memorable times of the past week, he had been practising the words he would be speaking in the next few minutes. Now they seemed jumbled in his mind; confused and disjointed.

__Don't you think you're coming on a little strong, Vakarian?__

Was he? It was so easy to imagine she possessed the same depth of feelings he did, but maybe it was simply because he wanted so badly for it to be true. Since finding himself face to face with her on Omega, his life had been turned so wonderfully and painfully upside down that reality was starting to feel like some sort of cosmic joke.

__What a romantic thought.__

Releasing the object in his pocket from his grasp, his psyche conjured up an image in his mind of something comparable - the first time he had seen a human woman cut off a huge chunk of her hair. His reaction had been to almost thrown up, not realizing that the hair had no nerve endings and that it would grow back. He'd done enough research to know that what he was doing was far from anything humans did to show love or affection.

How was he going to explain himself to Shepard so that he didn't come across as disturbed or unbalanced?

There was no time for this. How much longer before their suicide mission? Days? Hours? He couldn't afford to be loitering around. She cared for him, he knew that, otherwise she wouldn't have asked him to come up to her quarters. His hand slipped out of his pocket and he gave himself one more look in the reflective metal. His plates looked dull – he needed to get more sun. Would she even notice? He frowned, before turning and heading for the elevator.

When he reached her cabin door, it was another almost impassable obstacle.

He had been on dates before and never had he been thrown into such a state of anxiety – and he and Shepard had already been... intimate. As his hand hovered over the door control, he blew a frustrated breath through his clenched teeth.

__Dammit, open the door, __his mind screamed.

By the time the doors opened, he was already berating himself mentally for wasting so much time in the bathroom and outside her cabin. Shepard was seated beside her bed, in a loose tee-shirt and shorts, datapad in hand and... an assault rifle leaning against the nearby wall. She'd heard him enter, her green eyes glanced up from reading and she smiled, noticing his gaze lingering on the weapon.

"Of all the ways I imagined dying in your quarters, assault rifles were never part of the equation. Although I've already had a pistol held to my head while in bed with you, so I can't say as I'm surprised." He joked.

"Who said anything about firing guns tonight?" She deadpanned.

He felt his mandibles flare in amusement, and just like that all the trepidation that had been hounded him vanished in the brilliance of her smile. Making his way to the top of the stairs, he leaned against the pillar next to her model ship display.

"Let's see, scars - check, guns - check... turians..." he glanced down at himself, "-check." There was an infinitesimal waggle of his brow plates, which he was certain she had caught. "Any other kinks I should know about?"

"If I tell you, it would ruin the fun of discovery." She got up from her chair, her eyes once again glued to the datapad, she paused beside a sock that had been forgotten on the floor. Before he could continue their banter, she did something that made his jaw drop. Gaze still held fast on the datapad, her bare foot grasped the sock, lifted it to her free hand, which crammed it casually into the recycler. Taking another couple steps, she paused, noticing his surprise.

"Maybe humanity isn't as far off from swinging from trees as everyone thought." She said by way of explanation.

"Oh I don't know. You seem pretty evolved to me" he responded, intrigued. She continued past him and flopped down on the couch.

"Evolved maybe, advanced though? When your species was helping quell the krogan rebellions, my ancestors were living in stone castles and fighting each other with iron blades."

"Well I guess it's a good thing our species didn't run into each other back then."

She laughed, "I bet we still would have put up one hell of a fight."

He nodded, not doubting her in the least. "What are you reading?" Garrus asked as he sat perpendicular to her on the couch. She tossed the datapad onto the table and sighed.

"That action is best which procures the greatest happiness for the greatest numbers." She crossed her arms and rested her feet on the table. "Francis Hutcheson, a human philosopher from about five hundred years ago."

"Sounds like heavy stuff. " His eyes moved to the assault rifle. "And the gun?"

"The gun is insurance in case our newest crew member changes its mind in the night. I don't think it will, but after all the geth we've fought, I'd rather be cautious than dead." A strange smile crossed her lips. "It's calling itself Legion."

"You activated the geth... and it named itself?" Garrus had been expecting her to tell him about activating the geth, but it was still surprising to hear.

"No, actually EDI named it. It kept wanting to call itself 'Geth'." She stretched her arms out along the back of the couch and regarded him. "It wants to help us fight the old machines, and it has asked me to help it with its brethren."

"Old machines?" he repeated. She nodded. "Everyone in this galaxy has a terrible task for you, Shepard." Garrus complained as she leaned forward and passed him the datapad from the table. He quickly scanned her report. It was clear, concise and detailed, as were all her reports - even if they were now mostly for the benefit of the Illusive Man, she hadn't lost her attention to detail.

"It wants you to wipe out a whole faction of geth?" he looked back down at the datapad. "Heretics. That sounds awfully religious. They're machines, why can they just be reprogrammed?" Garrus wondered out loud. "Imagine if whole civilizations could just be rewritten. I don't know if I can imagine the krogan as docile farmers."

"I'm not usually one to denounce false prophets," Shepard mused as she ran her fingers through her hair. "But if I can understand the geth, then maybe I can help them understand the quarians and vice versa. "

"Shepard," Garrus shook his head at her. "You're talking about ending a three hundred year old conflict."

Her words were muffled as she ran her hands over her face. "I know... another crusade to add to the list. And that's if we even get a chance..."

__We.__

"And that N7 armour it was wearing… it looked awfully familiar. I get the strangest feeling it's been looking for me," she wondered.

"It wouldn't be the first time an alien was after your body," Garrus retorted. The words were out of his mouth before he realized it and she burst out laughing.

"True enough."

For the entire conversation, Garrus had been careful to keep his hand covered, having not mustered the courage to say anything about it. But as he moved to place the datapad back on the table, he forgot himself. She was quick, catching his arm in her warm grasp in an instant. Frowning, her fingers loosened, and he could tell she was playing along now, trying to not appear so alarmed.

"How is your arm?" She asked innocently, but he felt her eyes travel down his forearm towards his hand. Tugging it away, he took a deep breath.

This was it.

"Shepard. I... want to give you something." His hand had gone to his pocket, the object there burning a hole in the thin fabric. She shimmied closer, her expression a mixture of worry and curiosity.

"Hold out your hand." He asked.

She obliged.

He tried to remember all the things he was going to say, but they had all completely vanished from his mind. The space between his ears was one giant anxious void, and it was so terrifying he felt his face going numb. What the hell was he afraid of? Rejection? The look in her eyes said she trusted him, implicitly. Their tranquil green revealing the same patience and understanding he remembered from years before.

Another deep breath and he grabbed the small object and thrust his balled fist into her open hands.

"Garrus?" She prodded gently, and he finally uncurled his fingers and let the object fall. He hadn't realized he was squeezing his eyes shut, and he quickly opened them to judge her reaction. Slivers of blonde hair tumbled down around her face as she looked at the gift cradled in her hands.

"It's warm," she said softly, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as her fingers looped around the small object. With her right hand she lifted the dark chain so she could admire the irregular flat disk shimmering at the end. Taking it from her, Garrus hooked it over her head and let the necklace slide into the gentle dip of her chest. Immediately her hand returned to the iridescent pendant, fingers rubbing the smooth top, thumb running along the rough underside. Her other hand reached for his and this time he didn't resist. Fingers caressing his palm, she gently twisted his wrist to reveal the wound he had been hiding from her.

Shepard looked as though she was about to comment, and Garrus felt his mouth open unexpectedly to spew forth all the words he had been obsessing and brooding over for the past few days.

"Feudal turian's used to pry off a plate and offer it to their general as a symbol of their loyalty. It would be heated and fuse it to his armour, the idea being that their leader was made stronger by the strength of his warriors." Garrus couldn't quite read her expression so he rambled on. "They used to melt down the dead of worthy adversaries to forge weapons, different turians from different regions meant different plate metal make up and..." His voice drifted off.

She still wasn't saying anything, and he felt his stomach clench. He noticed she was tracing the edges of the wound on his hand where the plate had been.

"There's an asari on the citadel - had a shop there for a long time. She is... very good with a blade." __Spirits, that sounded even worse,__ Garrus winced inwardly. He was really butchering this.

"It looks painful." Shepard finally murmured, her fingers pausing. Looking down he realized she had found where the plate was beginning to grow back. It was a shimmering orange red in the places it had finished fusing, a stark contrast to the mild silvery grey of the rest of his plating.

"The plate eventually grows back," he reassured her, "the colour depends on what you're eating it-"

"Too much iron." She said, repeating Mordin's words as she looked up at him. Her expression made his heart constrict... was she upset? Her eyes were large and glassy, and he felt himself frowning.

"The feudal turians would choose a colour that represented their general..."

"And my colour is red?"

He nodded, and he wondered if she remembered how she had smeared her blood across his cheek down in the cargo hold. Perhaps he had taken that a little too seriously - he felt the nervousness return. Dropping his head, he tried to put everything in perspective.

"I'm sorry if this is inappropriate for humans... I... read that humans exchange jewellery and I thought...well…" He was falling over himself, the words just wouldn't come out right. "This seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Garrus," she had reached up and turned his head back to her, "this is the most beautiful and most disturbing thing anyone has ever done for me." And she smiled. "It's really special. Thank you."

Relief. Like a tidal wave, it practically knocked him off the couch.

"I wish I had something to give you in return," she continued, still looking at his injured hand.

"No... no, you've given me more than you'll ever know." He was shaking his head, taking her hands and enclosing them in his. "Shepard, you gave me a second chance."

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	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

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__Awake or asleep, Shepard seemed to consistently find herself standing on the border between heaven and hell. __

__The air was fresh and sweet, with a light breeze that carried the sound of gently swaying grass. With her eyes closed she took a long, deep breath of the dewy air and cautiously curled the toes of her bare feet into the damp ground.__

__The sun was warm on her face, the bright light red on the back of her eyelids. With some hesitation, she slowly opened her eyes to cloudless skies and endless horizon. As she took in her surroundings, she found herself at the base of a gentle hill – it was a place Shepard had stood many times before. __

__It was always the same.__

__Before her loomed a magnificent tree, its branches heavy with swollen fruit. But it wasn't ordinary fruit – its flesh and skin was made of gold, and the crisp spring light shimmered as it danced across its smooth curves. __

__Sometimes the tree bore apples, sometimes oranges - this time it was pears. __

__Her instinct was always to run to the tree, to pluck as much of the fruit as she could carry. Of course it wasn't that easy. In the wide expanse between her and the tree stretched a sea of broken glass, the jagged shards sparkling like fallen snow in the daylight. Beautifully sinister, it barred the way to the tree in every direction. __

__Looking back at her bare feet, Shepard considered her options. Admire from afar, or journey through the glass. __

__In the end she always decided the pain was worth the payoff, and this time would have been no different. That was until she took a few steps back to prepare to make a run of the tree, she heard something other than the gentle breeze and rustling leaves. Was she imagining it? No, she was sure she heard it – she froze, hearing it a second time.__

__Her name, her first name, whispered gently in her ear – but she was alone. She was always alone. Looking around confirmed it. But the quiet whispers continued. Looking up she noticed clouds in the normally brilliant blue sky were beginning to gather, the horizon darkening and the wind picking up. __ __With the storm approaching, there was no more time for hesitation. She leapt forward, taking off for the tree at a run, but as every time before, she never made it past that first painful step.__

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The dream came so often that she didn't startle when she woke. The whispers of rustling grass and moist air dissolved seamlessly into the Normandy living hum. Shepard's hands, which had been lightly gripping the warm sheets, relaxed as her eyes opened to darkness. The warm body beside her shifted, his long breaths rustling her hair.

Year after year the dream had been chasing her, but this was the first time she'd had it since her resurrection. Obviously death wasn't enough to keep some dreams at bay. The dream had always been the same, even after being exposed to the prothean beacons; it had never changed - until now.

The whispers of her name and the impending storm were new elements. It seemed that the simple act of mustering courage to achieve her goal was becoming... more complicated.

When she had first started having the dream years ago, she had often had to inspect her feet after waking – certain she would find them soaked with blood. There wasn't any of course, but over the years it had become a grim reminder of all the blood that had been shed during the journey of her life.

She had given up long ago believing that the dream was just her mind making a spelling mistake - no, not blades of glass, she used to tell herself, blades of grass.

But really, it was appropriate – her life had been a series of painful obstacles. Mindoir, Elysium, Saren, death, Bahak, the collectors, the upcoming trial, the reapers, what else? There was surely a multitude of variables that would prevent her from... from what? What was the value of beautiful, inedible fruit? What was the point of reaching a goal that had value and worth, but no taste?

Did living happily ever after even exist? Shepard had her doubts, but then why bother to help anyone or fight for anything if things were guaranteed to end in misery anyway?

She needed to stop over thinking these things.

Though Shepard desperately wanted to go back to sleep, she was undeniably awake, like so many nights before she stared into the dim grey shadows of her cabin. Sitting up, she glanced over at the sleeping turian beside her. When he didn't stir, she slowly swung her feet off the side of the bed and rested her head in her hands.

Why couldn't she enjoy the soft void of unconsciousness, even for just one night?

Obviously her subconscious had other plans.

Gently, Shepard slipped out from under the covers and into the chair beside her bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she found some comfort reclining in the soft leather.

During the last few days sleep had been nearly impossible. The time they had left seemed so limited – so precious. It was easy for her body to stay awake, the implants and cybernetics keeping her physical form constantly ready for action of any kind. But her normally sharp mind was becoming foggy, dull and uninhibited. The distraction of long waking hours and restless sleeps had her spending many nights in her cabin staring up towards the glass ceiling above her.

Literally and figuratively.

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__It had only been three days since he'd left the Citadel. Two days had been long enough for C-Sec to notice he had jumped ship, and also long enough for his father to find out he had once again failed to follow something through. Garrus' omni tool had been beeping with new messages all morning, and desperate not to acknowledge the new path his life was taking, he had muted it.__

__The transport he had boarded at the Citadel had eventually brought him to Thessia, of all places. __

__He had been there once before, with his dad, when he was younger. Drusus had been on Citadel business, and Garrus had tagged along, loitering in the hotel and wandering up and down the streets. After two days he was well known to the hotel staff – having been caught playing on the roof, they had entertained him with games and scavenger hunts to keep him occupied and out of trouble. It wasn't long before he had grown annoyed of the asaris' pawing, having to listen to them gush about what an adorable young turian he was. __

__Adorable was not a desirable trait for a young male turian. __

__The trip had ended with a formal (boring) event at the turian embassy. He could still remember the itchy outfit he'd had to wear, the words fashionably uncomfortable coming to mind. The desire to scratch was almost unbearable as his father introduced him to the daughters of every notable turian in attendance. Under Drusus' attentive gaze, Garrus had been charming and polite, listening to old turians drone on about what a good general he'd make or how he would surely have a distinguished C-Sec career. __

__Things had taken a turn for the worse though at dinner, when Garrus had been the unfortunate victim of a particularly nasty levo-animo food cross contamination, and had proceeded to vomit all over asari seated next to him. __

__That had been nearly twenty years ago. It had been the last time he had been on Thessia. And the last time his father had taken him on any official business trips. The asari homeworld didn't really seem much different to him now. It was still a sea of blue heads and graceful towers, just as it had been in his memories.__

__Most of Garrus's belongings had been abandoned, along with his career, on the Citadel. He was still wearing his C-Sec armour, and although the space port was holding his gun, he had decided to drag along the bag of items he had stolen from Shepard's locker. Now that he was sitting still, her light scent had been slowly creeping around him and he kept excepting her to come up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder.__

__But he would never feel her touch, never turn to find her standing behind him - nights of wishing her back to life had taught him that. He glanced down at the unassuming bag, and then back to his drink. The now familiar, tiny shocks of anger began to trickle through him, his talons clenching around the glass in his hand. __

__It took all his strength to relax and not give in to the vengeful rage that was biding its time inside him. Walking the line between sickening despair and overwhelming fury in daily life was not an easy feat. Looking back down at the drink in his hand, Garrus focused on the cold blue liquid. It was pretty early to be drinking, but Thessia was surprisingly civilized and one could procure an alcoholic beverage as early as eight in the morning. The alcohol didn't even matter - it was the sensation that he wanted. __

__Spirits he was a mess. He probably needed a shower too, but he really didn't care. __

__The news that was playing on the public terminal in the corner of the cheap spaceport restaurant kept drawing his gaze. He couldn't help but expect to see breaking news of the reaper invasion, but every day that it didn't come made Shepard look less like a hero and more like a raving lunatic. All these fools, blind to their own impending destruction. Without anyone hot on the trail of the reaper threat, it seemed the galaxy had already surrendered to its fate.__

__Garrus took a long drink from his glass, the cold burn that chased down his throat better than the numbness that had been plaguing him for weeks.__

__Anderson seemed to believe the reapers were coming, but even he, with his influence and position, was unable to convince people of the danger. Garrus wondered how often that man had to dip into the bottle to maintain his sanity. He guessed it was pretty regularly.__

__The irony was that in his early years at C-Sec, Garrus had often scoffed at drunks and addicts; the statistics from the Citadel showing humans made up the slight majority of troubled souls there. Chellick had made mocking comments about the 'human condition', how it only excused substance abuse and escapism - Garrus had agreed that only cowards sought solace in numbness.__

__Years later and here he was. __

__Vaguely, he was aware of two salarians chatting noisily as they found seats at a table nearby. He could feel them eyeing his attire and one of them muttered something along the lines of 'Things must be getting pretty bad at the Citadel...'.__

__He really needed to get some new armour. __

__Glancing up at the news vid again, Garrus stared blankly at the images it was showing of a lush, green, lightly populated landscape. His eyes opened a little wider as he noticed the words scrolling along the bottom - 'Monument commemorating Commander Shepard planned for Mindoir Capitol.' Garrus felt his eyes narrow as a picture of her flashed on the screen and he forced himself to look away, the burning embers deep inside him flaring up again. Counting to ten in his head, he calmed himself before glancing back at the screen. The commentator had moved on, and the simultaneous disappointment and relief Garrus felt was confusing.__

__Even though the beeping from his omni tool had stop, Garrus could feel the weight of the growing list of messages there. Giving it a sour look, he quickly scrolled through the alerts until one caught his eye.__

'__Officer Vakarian,__

__I wanted to apologize for our meeting the other day. I had been meaning to speak with you, but your unannounced visit took me off guard. C-Sec has informed me that you abruptly left your post at the Citadel. While I do not entirely agree with abandoning your responsibilities, you have no doubt decided to search for your own answers.__

__I wanted to wish you luck and pass on some information that crossed my desk after it was recovered from the Normandy crash site on Alchera. It appears the Commander won an apartment on Intai'sei in the Phoenix system, Argos Rho. In an amendment to her will, she states that it, and all its contents should go to you, since you fought with her in the simulations on Pinnacle Station. I have attached a secure packet containing further information regarding Alchera, as well as Intai'sei. There was also a small sum of credits, which has already been deposited into your account. __

__I'm sorry I don't have any more information for you. __

__Regards,__

__Councillor Anderson.'__

__He read the words again. Then a third time. __

__Alchera had been calling him since the funeral, often filling his restless nights with images of snowy, burning wreckage, and more disturbingly, Shepard frozen in the thick ice.__

__They had found no body, his mind kept screaming at him. __

__And Intai-sei... he and Wrex had both fought with Shepard in the simulations on Pinnacle Station. She was right to assume Wrex wouldn't want a share of the retirement property she had won, but why would she leave it to him?__

__Checking his credit account, he frowned. Forty-eight thousand more credits than there should be. Blood money. His stomach turned and he pushed his drink away.__

__"Not quite what you were looking for?" the asari bartender asked as he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.__

__"This life isn't quite what I was looking for," he replied darkly, and the asari gave a short, knowing laugh.__

"__You look like you could use something to eat," she suggested, and Garrus couldn't think of the last meal he'd had – not that food appealed to him lately. "Or maybe you need something a little stronger?" the bartender continued. __

__"No... " Garrus let his hands drop to the bar. "What I really need is a ship." __

"__A ship?" The asari repeated, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise before she nodded slowly. "You know, I just might know someone who can help you."__

__Turning away from the bar, she disappeared through a door behind the shelves of liquor, only to reemerge a few moments later, tapping away at her omni tool.__

__"I'm sending you the name and address. My sister has a ship she's been trying to get rid of for over a year... and well, she's been rather picky about who ends up with it. But you..." She grabbed a cloth and began wiping down the bar. "You just might fit the bill."__

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Shepard's gaze lingered on the form in her bed. Shrouded in tender shadows, Garrus looked so peaceful.

In the time machine darkness can sometimes be, the past two years seemed to slip away and he once again looked like the young, eager, C-Sec officer he had once been. How easily he had talked her into letting him join her in her hunt for Saren. So much potential, so much energy…

So idealistic.

This new Garrus was unpredictable - somehow both casually at ease and desperately intense at the same time. It was hard to believe the turian she had known then and the one who was now sharing her bed were the same person.

When those sharp eyes looked back at her now, she could tell he had been places and seen things – things that had changed him. Now he guarded his secrets well. But didn't they all? The Normandy was a ship full of wanderers, trying to outrun their demons.

Fringe in the air and face buried in his pillow, Garrus purred softly as he slept. His left leg clawed briefly against the bed sheets, and she smiled. What did he dream of, she wondered? Did he dream of past adventures? Battles? Victories? Maybe he saw visions of a more peaceful time on Palaven, of his family, childhood or first love.

Again, Garrus stirred in his sleep, but didn't wake. Shepard's right hand rose to the gentle slope of her shoulder, fingers brushing against the fading marks of passion from days earlier, before seeking out the dark metal chain around her neck. Lifting it, she dangled the pendant before her eyes, the weak light in her cabin playing tricks along the edges of the metallic plate as it twisted in the breeze-less air.

It was a bit bigger than a military ID tag, its shape reminding her vaguely of a butterfly. The once leathery plate had been treated in a way that had made it hard, its surface polished smooth. She could make out tiny flecks of black, like tarnished silver, that peppered the edges. The underside appeared untreated, a strange combination of bumps and swirls as the plate had grown with its owner.

He had offered her a piece of himself - a tangible, physical chunk for her to keep... But there was more to it than that.

The gift was a symbol of both his love and his pain, selfishness and sacrifice. It was an appropriate symbol for a relationship born out of violence, desperation and intense passion.

She had been expecting him, but when he showed up at her door, Shepard had been surprised at how nervous he had been. Tripping over his words and excessively explaining his gift and his motives. In their everyday lives, and in combat he had slipped into an easy confidence - always assured, decisive and professional... but in private Garrus had seemed so vulnerable and unsure of himself.

In an effort to help him loosen up, she had directed their conversation towards things he knew and enjoyed – letting him run his mouth about guns, the turian military, his early years a C-Sec, anything to get him to relax. It quickly became apparent that he had worked himself into such a state before he had arrived at her door that it wasn't long before he began to tire. He had cursed himself for monopolizing their conversation, trying to give her a chance to do the same, even as his words had slowed and eyes drooped. Shepard had instead suggested they crawl into bed and he had nodded.

They had shared a bed once before of course, but it had been with more carnal intentions – and with him having a gun pointed at his head. This time however, it was something completely different. He had casually disrobed, and there were no words as they had slid under the covers. Facing each other, Shepard had gently placed her hands against his plated chest and he had closed his eyes and sighed, the talons of this left hand draping over the clothed curve of her hip. She had measured his breaths, running her fingers between the gaps in his plates as they flexed with each inhalation.

It was simple closeness without the fiery passion that usually consumed them – not that it wasn't there. Their lust was still very new and exciting, and Garrus had given her an awkward smile as his arousal became evident.

"I'm sorry," he'd whispered, his eyes flickering open and she had dismissed his words with a small smile. But when he had looked at her, she couldn't shake the feeling that his apologies, like so many others, were always more far reaching than the moment they were uttered.

Laying there beside him she had felt a sense of peace she hadn't ever felt before. It was more than enough to allow reality to release its hold on her. She'd hoped they would wake together, in the morning, fully rested and optimistic, just like in the vids. But it just wasn't going to happen, at least not for some time.

Shepard's gaze snapped back to Garrus's face as a small sound like a whimper slipped through his closed mouth and a taloned hand gripped his pillow. She expected him to wake, but instead he mumbled something and stilled once again.

"Why were you waiting for me, Garrus?" She asked the sleeping turian, his even breaths offering her no answers. "What have you been doing these past two years?"

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__As he reached out to hit the call button he was surprised when the door slid open. He was so used to the locked doors on the Citadel – it was a place where suspicion of one's neighbours ran wild. __

__Cautiously he stuck his head into the dark foyer.__

__"Rannara?" He asked to the emptiness.__

__Looking back the way he'd come, the narrow path he had followed to her door twisted through lush gardens. He had noted several specimens native to Palaven, mixed with some unfamiliar plants and several species which he had seen growing in the Presidium. Large fluffy seeds floated down from some nearby, unknown tree. Like giant snowflakes they meandered on the afternoon rays of honey sunlight that danced through the towering canopy of trees. __

"__The blue tahla tree only seeds for two days, every ten years." A smooth voice said behind him, and Garrus spun around. "It is the only time it ever snows here."__

__A tall, stately asari stood in the door. She wore a long, maroon dress, and had one pierced tentacle in the style akin to how a turian female would pierce her fringe. __

"__You're here about the ship?" she asked and he nodded. Smiling, she turned away from him and Garrus took the hint and followed her.__

__"The gardens were a compromise," she continued, her shoes clicking on the stone floor as they made their way down a long hallway. "My work kept us on Thessia, so my bond mate brought some of Palaven here."__

__The interior of her home was in complete contrast to the outside, the muted lighting keeping the details of the rooms they past hidden. Rannara glanced over her shoulder at him.__

"__You already know my name... " she prodded.__

"__Oh sorry, I'm Garrus... Vakarian." __

__"You're a little far from C-Sec and the halls of the Citadel, Officer Vakarian." She said as she stopped at a nondescript door, giving him a questioning look as she punched a code into the control.__

__"Just Garrus is fine," he replied, and she nodded, accepting his half answer. The door opened, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the sudden bright light of the glass roofed hanger. The ship that sat before him was a type he had never seen before. It looked like a turian fighter spliced with a human manufactured transport, but with other additions that had him momentarily confused. __

__"The Lixos Draa," Rannara announced as they approached the small ship. "Bardax spent time as an engineer in the turian military. After he retired, this ship became his pride and joy." __

__Garrus walked around the craft as Rannara opened the main hatch. __

__"Turian and human components, interesting choice," he said thoughtfully.__

__"He always said turians were fighters and humans were protectors." Garrus heard her say from the other side of the ship.__

__"Why doesn't he want it anymore?" he asked absently as he checked the landing struts. There was a long pause as he came back around the ship to where Rannara was standing.__

__"Bardax's spirit has returned to the energy of the universe," she explained quietly, giving him a sad smile.__

__Garrus nodded in mute understanding as he stepped into the ship. There was a mild odour of metal inside the cabin, which probably hadn't been opened and aired out in some time. The interior was clean, sparse, the controls were lit and he began to check the systems.__

__"Looks like he was working on reducing the FTL wake," he murmured as his talons moved across the touch screen. "And he's hidden two mass accelerator cannons above the engines... impressive." It might have been a bastardized design, but it was a well built ship with inspired modifications.__

__What do you think of this ship, Shepard? He asked in his head - after all it was her money he would be buying it with, it was only right he ask her opinion.__

__His father would have told him he was being impulsive. But Shepard... she would have loved this ship. She had always told him he needed to learn to improvise and adapt. It was easy to imagine how intrigued she would have been by the design, how she would have poked around the systems, asking questions, masking her excitement for the sake of negotiating the price. __

__In his mind she smiled at him. 'Combination of human and turian elements...' __

_"___Just like the Normandy..." he whispered to himself. Spirits, he missed her.__

__"I recognize you," Rannara suddenly said as she sat down in the co-pilot's seat, he could feel her large blue eyes regarding him. "You were at the battle of the Citadel, I saw you on the news vids with Commander Shepard and that old krogan."__

__Hearing Shepard's name immediately intensified the already burning pain he had been working so hard to quell, and all he could do was stare blankly at the ship's main console in an attempt to control the ill feeling. He heard the asari shift in her seat and clear her throat.__

__"I'm sorry if I've upset you." __

__"No, it's alright;" he clenched his jaw and swallowed. Looking around at the interior of the ship, he realized he probably wouldn't have the credits for a ship like the Lixos. Maybe if he visited a few scrap yards he could throw something together. Or maybe find a ship for hire at the spaceport.__

__"Rannara, I don't think I will be able to afford this ship," he said reluctantly.__

__"Oh I think you will," the asari said thoughtfully as she opened her omni tool. "I've had quite a few people in to see the Lixos and you are the only one who has appreciated her unique design. Bardax never liked the idea of someone else flying his ship, but I like you Garrus. You remind me of Bardax when I first met him – a terribly lost and troubled turian with a strong desire to do something good."__

__Garrus's omni tool blinked. Opening the message, he realized Rannara had sent him the ship's registry information and user codes. __

__"You're... you're giving me the ship?" he said, aghast.__

__The asari smiled and got up from the co-pilots seat. "The ship was never for sale," she dropped a blue hand to his shoulder. "It simply needed a new owner."__

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Garrus sucked in a harsh breath as his eyes opened to the darkness. A soft, familiar melody of scents assured him he wasn't alone and the talons he had curled around the blankets relaxed. Turning his face from the pillow, he could make out a dark silhouette reclining in the shadows, lit only by the faint glow emanating from the lights lining the steps towards the door.

The ephemeral images of his dreams were already fading in the familiar, barren surroundings of the Normandy. With tired eyes he looked at his lover.

"Can't sleep?" he asked softly, his sleepy voice flanging lower than usual.

In the limited light, and even with his excellent low light vision, he could barely make out her features, catching only the slight tilt of her head. The darkness seemed to give Shepard a strange power - she appeared dangerous, unpredictable, a superior predator simply offering him a few merciful moments before deciding whether or not to devour him.

It was intoxicating, and he felt his mandibles quiver. Shaking himself inwardly, her silence spurred him on. "I was snoring, wasn't I?" She shook her head slightly, a light sigh escaping her lips.

"No..." Her voice was distant.

Garrus frowned, propping himself up with his bent arm. "Talk to me Shepard."

The shadow of his commander twitched ever so slightly. There was a faint shimmer, and he realized she was holding up the necklace he had given her. He imagined her chest rising as he heard her take in a long breath before she spoke.

"I know Ash has been dead for two years but it feels like… " she paused, dropping the necklace and tilting her head back to look up at the starry window above them. "Having already died, asking others to do the same feels like an unreasonable request. Now here I am with a team of some of the best the galaxy has to offer and I'm asking them all to die for my cause."

"It's not just your cause, Shepard."

"Tali is a perfect example," she continued, crossing her arms as she lifted her feet and pressed them into the side of the mattress. "She shouldn't even be on this mission. It's not that she isn't an asset to the team, or a capable engineer, but the quarian people need her."

"Tali has as much invested in this mission as anyone else. Besides, I don't think she would willingly disembark, even if you ordered her off," Garrus reasoned. Shepard admitted he was right with a quiet sigh. "You're going to take her to the geth base, aren't you?" he continued.

She was giving him a slow nod. "I thought you'd be more… ", she paused, seeming to be unable to find the words she was looking for, but he knew what she meant. She had expected a reaction similar to what had happened after Aratoht.

"No," he shook his head. "You are Commander Shepard for a reason, and I understand that I won't always be able to fight by your side. I just don't like you doing things alone. As for Tali... are you sure taking her is a good idea? Because I'm not sure a simple team building exercise is going to be enough to improve geth-quarian relations."

She let out a sad laugh. "Maybe not… " she muttered as she leaned forward and pressed her head against her raised knees. When she didn't continue, the apprehension Garrus always felt when she slipped into these solemn moods, reasserted itself. Most of the time Shepard always seemed so unshakable, so sure. Her uncertainty shook the very foundations of his reality.

"You know none of us would be here if we didn't think this cause was worth our lives."

"I know," she answered softly.

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__His boots crunched in the soft snow, leaving neat, white foot prints in a trail back to his ship. Alchera was cold, the air dusted with tiny flakes of snow drifting down from the cotton sky. Turians hated the cold, and although he felt no chills through his armour, he felt the sharp edge of inexperience prickling the soft skin between his plates.__

__This frozen environment was so alien to him, the world so strange and unpredictable. Every cold planet Shepard dragged them to had reminded him of a vid he had watched with his father when he was very small. In it, a team of turian surveyors were trekking across a desolate, snowy world. In the next moment the ice beneath them had cracked and shifted, pulling apart and turning over, tossing two of them into the freezing water below. Arms clawing at air and ice, they had quietly slipped beneath the surface in one tumbling motion, much to the despair of their companion. Garrus had let out an upset warble, which had alerted his mother, who had in turn scolded his father for letting their young son watch the upsetting vid. __

__The image of those turians slipping beneath the ice had always stayed with him. Even now, though the ground felt solid, Garrus couldn't shake the feeling it was shifting, imperceptibly, beneath his feet.__

__If the blindingly bright snow and the strangeness of the cold weren't bad enough, the silence made it that much worse. There was no wind, no animals, and no sounds of any kind. His brow plates knit together in concern. Suddenly a deep, hollow sound rumbled up from the depths of the frozen ground - ominous, like a roll of distant thunder. Garrus stilled, his heart leaping out of his chest as he listened, waiting for some event. But the sound faded, and the world grew quiet once again. __

__Alchera had consumed Shepard and it was all too apparent it could do the same to him. He could just disappear, be swallowed up like a fleeting ripple in the frozen ocean of the galaxy. __

__Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.__

__Taking a few more steps his ears strained for any more threatening sounds, but there was nothing and he chided himself for being so cowardly. Shepard would have applauded this exercise – anything that pitted someone against their fears was progress in her mind. __

__Garrus glanced back at the Lixos, which stood quiet sentry to his solo expedition. It had been obvious during his approach that he wasn't the first to visit the Normandy's crash site. From the surface he had been able to count seven ship imprints in the snow, as well as several sets of faint boot prints, human, turian, krogan and few others he couldn't be sure of – and that had just been in the area where he had landed. __

__Coming into view of a line of snowy ridges, Garrus felt a nervous feeling come over him as the skin on his neck tighten. The sensation of someone watching him became overwhelming, and he slowly turned as he scanned the ridge and ruins around him. Taking out his rifle, he began stepping backward until he was up against a large icy bank, where he waited.__

__Trust your instincts, Shepard was saying in his head.__

__His visor picked up movement, and he snapped his head to the side, rifle raised. But as he waited, there was only ice and silence. Garrus stared at glistening snow until his eyes ached, preparing for combat and trying to calm his quick breaths. His arms were cramping, and still he waited. Time passed and the tiny flakes of snow gently taunted him with their peacefully waltz. Gradually the tension eased and his foreboding feelings subsided. Replacing his rifle on his back he continued to explore, albeit with significantly more apprehension than before.__

__Squatting, he wiped a gloved hand across the frosty ground, revealing the smooth ice beneath. The impact of the super heated wreckage of the Normandy had melted the snow all around, which had then snap froze into abstract formations and smooth, unnatural, curved surfaces, trapping the mangled pieces of ship debris in its icy fingers. __

__Reminding himself, again, that Alchera was frozen almost to its core, he continued his investigation of the snow and metal graveyard – peeking his head past twisted beams and checking under warped panels.__

__Garrus wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting to find. Confirmation? Wandering around the site, it quickly became obvious that only large chunks of the Normandy had survived. As he turned a corner he couldn't help but laugh. There stood the mako, relatively undamaged; it had landed on its tires - as always. Running a gloved hand along the vehicles frosty surface he felt his chest constrict as a flurry of fresh images flooded his mind. __

__Sadly, he was realizing there was nothing on Alchera except dead memories__

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In the dark of her cabin, they had drifted into a comfortable silence. Garrus had propped himself up with a pillow, his eyes sleepily drifting open and closed, satisfied to simply enjoy her presence. Listening to the quiet rhythm of their breaths, he was slowly beginning to let go of all those long nights he had spent alone – wishing her back to life.

In the faint light he caught sight of her old N7 helmet, the dark glass of the visor staring back at him like a painful whisper from the past.

__In the cold chill of Alchera he had stood over the disembodied helmet, staring back at him with a dead, accusing blankness that sent chills through him. He had knelt, reaching out for it, but hesitated, hand hovering before dropping back to his side. As much as he had come there for resolution, he couldn't bring himself to pick it up, fearing what he might find inside. Perhaps not knowing wasn't as bad as having to live with the truth.__

It was surprising to him that she had chosen to salvage her old helmet. To constantly have a reminder of your own death in your bedroom was a little disturbing. Dropping his feet to the floor, he reached over and picked it up. Shepard was watching him, even in the darkness he could feel her eyes on his back.

His large hands easily curled around the small and round helmet. It was light, almost toy like – though he would never dare say that out loud. There were a lot of people in the galaxy who didn't realize that the size of the sword did not determine the strength of the warrior.

Holding her helmet in his hands and although he feared he might smell the faint odour of death, he none the less performed the action that had been so difficult years earlier. Turning the helmet over, he looked inside – only to find dark emptiness that thankfully lacked any smell at all.

Such a simple action now... how had it been so impossible on Alchera?

He heard the soft wet sound of her lips parting and he expected her to speak, but she must have thought better of it and instead let him have the moment to himself.

Returning the helmet to its original spot, Garrus turned away from it, letting his head tip back as he pushed his dark thoughts away. Taking in one long breath through his nose, he basked in the symphony of their mixed smells, his eyes seeking her out in the blackness. Her head tilted slightly to the side and he thought he caught the faint shine of her teeth.

"Garrus... Do I __really__ smell that bad?"

Mandibles flaring he shook his head, not even sure if she could see him doing it. "Not at all."

"Then why? Why do I always catch you... sniffing?"

"I didn't realize I was being that obvious," he admitted. Shepard leaned forward, tucking her elbows under her arms, waiting for his explanation. "Turians place a lot of emphasis on scent. And…" he tried to choose his words wisely. "Scent and memory were the only things I had for a long time."

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__Intai'sei as a planet lacked character, as did the buildings, which were just simple prefabs, dropped over a large barren area. But leave it to Shepard to be having a party, even dead she was a magnet for action. He had to admit he was a little upset he hadn't received an invitation.__

__Garrus brought the Lixos Draa down slowly, the small, manoeuvrable ship easily landing in behind the slightly larger asari vessel that was already parked out front. Grabbing his helmet and weapons he leap out of the ship and carefully made his way towards the compound. In the dry sand he counted three sets of foot prints - two that could be human or asari, the third turian. __

__Whoever was inside either believed they should be there and had made themselves comfortable or they were small time bandits – not leaving a sentry by the ship or the outer door was sloppy. __

__The familiar rush of adrenaline before combat filled his veins as he tapped in the door code and stepped into the airlock. When the inner door opened, Garrus waited and listened. There was a shuffle farther inside, accompanied by the faint murmurs of casual chatter. Taking out his assault rifle, he crept up the hall, his visor informing him of the location and heat signatures of the three intruders. As the main room came into view, he could see an asari in plain clothes on the floor with her back to him, rummaging through an open crate. __

__Peeking around the end of the short hallway, he noted her lightly armed companions, a turian and another asari, who were looking out the large windows. It became immediately apparent to him that the boxes contained Shepard's things, but there was another smell that he recognized but couldn't quite identify. It only took him a moment to judge his tactical position and make a decision. Stepping out from cover and taking two long strides he came up behind the kneeling asari and pressed his rifle into the back of her head. __

"__I think you're trespassing," he said menacingly, jabbing the rifle a little harder.__

__The turian and the other asari loitering across the room, whipped around as they fumbled for their weapons. The kneeling asari held up her hand and they paused.__

"__Garrus?" the asari asked in surprise. The voice belonged to Liara. He pulled the gun away from her head, but didn't lower it, waiting until she turned to face him and confirmed her identity.__

__Relief spread across her features as she turned. He hadn't seen or heard from Liara since the chaos at the space dock; she hadn't even been at the funeral. She was obviously surprised to see him there, though not nearly as surprised as he was to see her.__

"__What are you doing here?" he asked, finally lowering his rifle but not putting it away. Her two henchmen were still gripping their weapons and Garrus wasn't taking any chances. Noticing the tension, Liara gave her companions a nod and they reluctantly replaced their weapons. __

"__Probably the same thing you're doing," Liara countered. "I'm looking for answers." She glanced back at the open crate in front of her. "Though I'm not entirely sure what the questions are."__

__Stepping past her, Garrus unlatched his helmet and set it down with the collection of other helmets on the small dining table. He gave Liara's two henchmen withering looks and they glanced at each other. __

__Beckoning the two of them over, Liara had a brief conversation with them before they returned to the table to retrieve their helmets. Garrus watched them with a hard stare as Liara ushered them to the exit, the turian giving him a few wary looks over his shoulder before they disappeared into the hallway. __

__When Liara returned moments later, she gracefully took a seat at the small table and Garrus joined her. __"__I saw your ship outside," she began, her large blue eyes searching his face for hints as to what kind of mindset he was in. "It's an interesting design. Is it turian?"__

__Garrus shrugged, tilting his head. "A child of human and turian creation."__

__Liara blinked at him then glanced over at his blue helmet. __"__New armour? I like it," she offered, but he just wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. "I honestly didn't think you would get here so soon," she continued, and he shrugged as she gave him an appraising look. "You are... looking better."__

"__You've always been a terrible liar, Liara," he stated flatly, crossing his arms as he settled back into his chair.__

"__I'm sorry I-" she ran a hand over the back of her head. "The past few weeks have been kind of crazy. Shepard had her things sent here from storage only days before the Citadel was attacked. Coming here, I... I don't know, I guess I thought it would provide me with some peace after some of the choices I've made recently."__

__Liara's intense interest in Shepard had always been a poorly kept secret. Everyone had chalked it up to the prothean beacons and the visions, but Garrus had always suspected there was something more to it.__

"__What are these choices you're regretting? And how did you know I was coming here?" he asked, trying not to sound too much like he was interrogating her - even if that was exactly what he was doing.__

"__I've been making contacts... monitoring communications, trying to find out what really happened to Shepard." She relaxed into her seat, letting her head tilt back as she gazed up at the ceiling." I ended up on Omega, found out the shadow broker was after Shepard's body... and wanted to do a deal with the collectors-"__

"__WHAT?" he roared, his gloved hands balling into fists.__

__Liara didn't flinch at his sudden outburst, only glanced down at him as she continued her confession. "The transaction was prevented, but..." she sighed, "Cerberus took Shepard's remains."__

__His fist hit the table, and Liara gave a slight jump as their helmets bumped together.__

"__You saw her? You saw the body?" All his carefully guarded rage was quickly taking control of him. The logic of it was just so unfathomable that he had to tense all the muscles in his body to prevent himself from leaping up, grabbing his chair and tossing it across the room. "And Cerberus? Really? Why the hell would you let that happen?"__

"__Don't judge me Garrus." Liara's eyes narrowed, her voice rising. "I was trying to prevent an even greater tragedy. Who knows what the collectors would have done with her!"__

__Garrus snapped his mouth shut and turned away, her words deflating him and forcing him to focus his cold glare at the opened crate instead. He didn't want to acknowledge what was being suggested. Liara had been busy tracking Shepard's disappearance while he had been distracting himself with work and nursing his aching soul – accomplishing nothing.__

__It was pathetic and it made him feel ill.__

"__They said it was important that humanity recover its greatest hero," she explained. Her words were meant to be soothing, but as she continued she stumbled over them, and Garrus got the feeling she was holding something back. "I didn't really have a choice. Besides, what could they possibly do with it? I'm sure it can't be anything worse than what the collectors would have done. At least that's what I tell myself."__

__Judging by her stammering, Garrus was inclined to believe she knew exactly what Cerberus wanted Shepard's body for, and he was tempted to call her on it... but did he really want to know? Would it really matter? Instead he sighed and let the silence grow between them.__

"__I found her N7 helmet on Alchera," he finally said, his rage finally dissolving as Shepard's faint scent crept towards him from the open crate. His anger had once again been flipped on its side, leaving him fighting to control the slight waver in his voice.__

"__Were you able to look inside it?" Liara asked, her voice sounding suddenly tired.__

"__No," he admitted quietly.__

"__Neither could I." __

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Pulling his feet back into the bed, Garrus clumsily fought with the sheets until he was able to lift them in an invitation for Shepard to return to the safe cocoon of blankets and pillows. Just as he realized she probably couldn't even see his gesture in the darkness, he felt a subtle shift as the Normandy made a course correction on her way to the Sea of Storms in the Phoenix Massing. As the ship tilted, a nearby planet dawned in the sky light above them, its soft purple glow crossing the room and draping everything in violet hues. Revealed by the tinted brilliance of the planet, Garrus could see clearly the woman in front of him – ruffled clothes and hair, her green eyes watching him keenly, her right hand gripping the pendant around her neck.

Just as quickly as it had been lifted, the curtain of darkness fell once again. But that small moment had been enough to make Garrus wonder if maybe they weren't doomed. Maybe the seemingly random occurrences of the galaxy were instead bringing them together.

Without a word, he heard her move from the chair, the bed shifting gently as she slid between the covers next to him. Even though it was becoming easier, there was still an awkward moment as they searched for a comfortable way to face each other, both of them still somewhat unfamiliar with the others' spaces. Shepard pressed her hands and forehead against his chest as he curled his face towards her. His talons tenderly speared through her fine hair, dragging lightly along her scalp.

He noticed she was humming her approval, and as if hearing the question in his head, she offered him an explanation.

"Scalp rubs feel good. Just evolution's way of keeping us primates parasite free by picking and eating the bugs out of each others' hair."

Garrus snorted. "That is…. really gross."

Shepard laughed softly and he didn't stop.

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	13. Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

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Tali was already in the elevator when he entered. The slight tilt of her reflective helmet was enough for Garrus to know it wasn't going to be a quiet ride to the CIC.

"Maybe you can let me know in advance if your cross species ship-wide sexual escapades will be taking you through engineering, so I can plan to be somewhere else… or at least sell tickets."

Garrus felt his mandibles flare in amusement. "I could give you a full report if that's what you're looking for."

As the doors slid open to the CIC, Tali laughed, shaking her head as she walked past. "Your generous streak is going to ruin that tough guy reputation of yours." He followed her up towards the cockpit, noticing absently as Tali's stride stiffen and realized he was finally going to meet their mechanized crewmate. Legion was standing... well, casually if you can call it that, a few steps behind their Commander, who was leaning over Joker's chair.

Shepard was all about putting oil and water together and shaking vigorously until mixed. Molecularly incompatible? No matter.

"Have we reached the heretic station?" Tali asked in the direction of Shepard and Joker's backs.

"No, creator Tali Zorah," Legion responded and Tali gave the machine a long look. After a tense moment the quarian stepped past the machine and joined the discussion in the cockpit. Garrus could hear a few snippets of their conversation, but what he couldn't get past was the bright white eye that was staring at him. All he'd been able to think of was how heavy the geth had been, but now, seeing it up and moving around, its smooth motions made it seem unnaturally light.

Garrus and Legion continued to stare at each other. The turian's eyes drifting over to the N7 logo on the piece of armour the geth had welded to itself and his eyes narrowed. Shepard had said she was going to press it further about where the geth had gotten it after they returned from the heretic station. Whatever the reason was, it raised a lot of questions.

He also noticed that Mordin had apparently returned the geth rifle to its rightful owner.

"That's a nice weapon," he motioned to sniper rifle with his chin. Was he really making small talk with a geth? "But I don't understand how you have much depth perception with that one giant eye."

The strange ridges above what Garrus had always assumed was the geth's eye, twitched. "Our optics consist of a rudimentary grid of light sensing diodes and depth sensors, making it superior to most organic life… including turians."

Garrus frowned and crossed his arms. He should have known geth would be smart asses. "I'm going to need more convincing than that."

The geth's eye ridges rippled again. "Query."

__This should be good__. Garrus nodded for Legion to continue.

"Why has Shepard Commander chosen an incompatible platform to interface with?"

Garrus blinked, stunned, not sure if he'd heard it right. "Why has she what?"

"You and Shepard Commander exchange information and software upgrades, despite hardware incompatibility. Explain."

He might have been insulted if what Legion was saying didn't sound so ridiculous. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or take a swing at the pile of wires standing in front of him. Glancing around at his company, he was glad to see no one was listening to their friendly chat. "Who told you…" Garrus wasn't even sure how he should phrase his question, "that we were exchanging information and software upgrades?" That almost sounded dirtier than 'cross species intercourse'.

"EDI," Legion stated.

"Well, EDI should have told you that it isn't any of your business." Maybe he should have left it at that, but he had never been known to let sleeping varren lie. "Why are you asking?"

Another twitch from Legion's eye ridges. "We infer there are benefits to a union between two platforms beyond the goal of reproduction. These benefits currently remain unknown to us."

He shouldn't have asked. Anymore encouragement and Legion was going to start asking him who was on top, right there on in the CIC. As tempting as it was to suggest that the machine ask Shepard and Tali what colour their underwear was and to find out if Joker preferred lace or satin, Garrus chose the safer road of subject change.

Not as entertaining, but definitely resulting in less physical violence of the angry female kind.

"And here I thought you'd have an answer for everything," Garrus exclaimed with forced surprise, letting his hands drop down to his sides as his ears picked up a bit of background conversation between Tali and Shepard. The quarian's mood seemed to have shifted from annoyed to excited.

"There are thirty seven million, five hundred ninety-nine thousand, three hundred forty-four relevant queries for which we currently have no answers. This total does not include questions not yet posed due to unknown variables."

"Great," Garrus drawled out sarcastically.

"Legion, Tali, lets head down to the shuttle." Shepard turned away from Joker and gave Garrus a professional nod. Even though their relationship was now common knowledge among the crew, there was an unspoken understanding that their intimacy shouldn't extend beyond closed doors. Besides, he had no intention of giving any more free shows.

Shepard gave him a hard slap on the shoulder as she passed. "Don't wait up."

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"Holy shit Vakarian, you finally came up for air." Jack slid into one of the mess hall chairs, the leer on her face enough to curdle milk. "Heard Kelly caught you and our illustrious Commander in the middle of some hands on training yesterday."

This was precisely the reason Garrus often chose to enjoy his alone time at his post. Tuning people out was easy, but pretending to listen and nodding at the correct times was far more difficult. Trying to look busy with the datapad in his hand, he casually took a sip from the glass sitting in front of him as his mind began to wander, once again, to Shepard and how she was faring on board the heretic station.

"Mordin and Chakwas should have informed me as soon as they knew," Miranda chimed in from behind him, her voice notably more annoyed than usual as she fiddled with the coffee maker. Garrus had observed several members of the team wandering through the mess hall since he'd arrived, asking if there was any news from Shepard's squad. Apparently he wasn't the only one who found it difficult to stay isolated on the ship while a mission was underway.

"Hell, we thought Mordin was just jerking us around with all that crap about anti hista whatevers and pills and shit," Jack continued, ignoring the Cerberus woman. "He shoulda never been allowed into the betting pool, it's no wonder he won… god damn salarian," she mumbled, bitterly.

Unfazed, Miranda continued her badgering. "I can't say that it's entirely appropriate for you and the Commander to be-"

"To be what Miranda?" Garrus's looked over his datapad and gave the woman a cold stare. "If you're going to call me on fraternization, maybe you shouldn't be walking around with the smell of Jacobs's hands all over you."

There was a moment of stunned silence, before a shit eating grin appeared on Jack's face.

"Sounds like the cheerleader's been spreading her legs to boost morale…"

"I'm sure trash like you knows all about spreading her legs," Miranda countered, slamming her mug down as she whipped around.

The datapad in Garrus's hand was suddenly not all that interesting to him. He knew things between Miranda and Jack were tense, but Shepard had always been the one to resolve crew conflicts. Unfortunately, she wasn't on board. The look on Miranda's face, the flickering biotic glow gathering around Jack's hands and the way the other members of the crew were cautiously backing away all screamed imminent biotic Armageddon.

"Hey!" Garrus yelled, his voice loud enough that everyone jumped. "I don't get paid to baby sit while Shepard is off saving the galaxy, so cut this juvenile crap out." He said the words with all the bravado he could muster before casually looking back down at the datapad in his hands. Both women stared at him and Garrus secretly braced himself for the biotic fallout.

"Whatever," Jack finally quipped, the tension easing as she shrugged and reclined in her chair. Miranda filled her mug with coffee and stormed off towards her office. Gradually, Garrus let out the breath he had been holding as slowly as possible so no one would notice.

"You know what Vakarian, you're alright."

"Glad you approve, Jack," he muttered and the lack of follow up conversation made him think maybe he could continue to lavish false attention on his datapad in silence.

He wasn't going to be quite so lucky.

"So... got a bit of a cross species kink?" Jack began.

This was not the conversation he wanted to have. Why couldn't people talk to him about guns or calibrations? Every day was turning into the Normandy Inquisition, but that was humans for you.

"Shepard seems like one tough bitch. With all the shit she's been through I'm sure a human man just seems like sliced bread to her now."

"Hey, you can dress up sliced bread, like with jam or peanut butter!" Kelly suggested, announcing her presence by diving into the conversation. There were a few sounds of agreement from the crewmembers sitting at the other table. Garrus noticed Kelly had a particularly suspicious smirk on her face, and he was tempted to ask her about it, except he wasn't really sure he wanted to know. Though he supposed, this conversation really couldn't get any worse than the one he'd had with Legion earlier.

Spirits… incompatible hardware… Really?

"So your tattoos… must not've hurt much seeing as your skin is so tough," Jack asked with indifference, trying to look like she really didn't care if he answered or not.

Garrus shrugged, trying to look equally uninterested. Having a conversation with Jack was like juggling explosives, one misstep and it could all blow up in your face. "Hurt? No… Your tattoos...?"

"Yes… well no." Jack looked around. "The pain was good, you know? – but I don't feel it like other people." It hadn't really occurred to Garrus that a human would feel pain from receiving a tattoo. But it made sense; their flesh was so soft… in his mind he could see Shepard's smooth skin rippling with tiny bumps as it listened to his warm breath.

"Shepard going to get tattooed?" Jack's voice brought him back to himself and Garrus couldn't help the lightening speed at which his brow plates rose. "Don't look so surprised Vakarian, I'm not stupid."

Setting down the datapad, Garrus leaned back in his chair. Kelly was still peeking in the fridge, and Garrus could hear three crew members chatting at the table on the other side of the small wall that divided the eating area. No doubt they were all listening.

"I would never ask her to do that. It's not her culture."

"You know, I've been with a few turians." Jack waggled her eye brows and Garrus began to reconsider just which conversation of the day would be the most uncomfortable. "You guys are so proud and aloof, but get your pants off and it's fucking madness - all that scratching and biting and shit. Shepard let you-"

"Feed her fish? Yeah, sometimes. Now, as much as I love the quality time we're enjoying right now, I really have some reports to go over," Garrus said gruffly as he picked the datapad back up.

"Yeah that's what I thought." Jack crossed her arms and smiled to herself. "It's those professional types - so cool and collected on the outside, but crazy and sadistic behind closed doors."

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__Half a dozen worlds and Shepard had followed him to each one. __

__He had been in this particular bar several times since arriving on Camala. So many times in fact, that he had lost count weeks earlier. He liked it for the cheap booze, dim lights and questionable patrons. Sometimes there would be an argument or fight - always a chance for things to end badly. It kept him sharp, plus he liked the challenge of being intoxicated and on the defensive; ready for a chance to beat hell into whatever lowlife happened to cross him. The only problem were the slow nights, when the brothel next door would send over its girls. They'd wander in, weaving suggestively among the crowd looking for potential customers. Too many of them were either slaves or working to amass enough cash to get off world, which was really almost the same as being a slave – their pimps never let them keep enough of the cash they earned to ever be able to afford to leave. Garrus had been tempted on more than one occasion to give the girls the money needed to escape their limbo, but it didn't help that ninety percent of them were addicts. They'd never make it to the space dock. __

__Still, it was tempting. Each pretty face, sizing him up, giving him coy smiles – so many of them were humans and in his mind he imagined Shepard never being picked up by an Alliance patrol on Mindoir. She would be just another girl making her way around the bar offering her body to anyone who had the credits.__

__Would any of these girls be able to save the galaxy? __

__A female drell slithered up beside the batarian sitting a few seats away. Snippets of their conversation reached him over the unremarkable, generic music being played and the low chatter coming from the vid screens. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the slave collar she wore and he frowned at his drink.__

__Most of them wouldn't see their thirtieth birthday.__

__Not having enough money to save them all gave Garrus an awful sense of hopelessness. When they approached him he wouldn't meet their gaze, just look off into the distance, giving them a dismissive shake of his head so they would move on to the next sullen bar patron.__

__But tonight, he had gotten a little ahead of himself and in his intoxicated state, his bleary eyes found a pair of green eyes watching him from across the bar. She was human, with blond hair cut just below her jaw. Their eyes met and he squinted hard at her, almost believing that he was seeing a ghost. __

__Mistaking his look for interest, she wasted no time sidling up beside him at the bar. As soon as she was close enough, his booze addled brain screamed impostor as her smell hit him. He tilted away from her, the sloshed investigator trapped inside him quickly noting the physical differences between this woman and Shepard – but some other part of him was screaming to just pretend. Improvise and adapt...__

"__Hey honey, you look like you could use some company," she purred. __

__The lines she spoke sounded as though she were reading them off cue cards held up behind him. Her voice was higher than Shepard's, more passive and feminine. She smelled of cigarettes, hair dye, cheap perfume and old wounds. But he was drunk enough that he didn't push her away, just let her rest her tiny arm on his armoured shoulder.__

"__What's your name baby?" She asked, taking the drink that was set in front of her by the bartender. They were all in it together of course, kick backs and cuts for all. It was disgusting.__

__Maybe he really did need to get laid. But just the thought of going home with this woman made his stomach tighten into terrible knots. He'd never had cross species intercourse… and this woman wasn't really how he'd imagined it happening. __

"__You don't talk much, do you?" she whispered in his ear, and he took another long drink from the glass in his hand. "That's ok. Talking is overrated anyway."__

__His mind started to drift and he wondered where he would be right now if Shepard had never died. Damn her for leaving. How could she have been so careless? The whole galaxy had gone to hell after she'd abandoned it. __

__Being drunk enough to blame Shepard for her own death was usually where Garrus drew the line. It was time to get out of this place.__

"__Whoa, hold on," the blond woman said as he stood shakily, knocking over his empty glass and taking a few uncertain steps back. Grabbing his arm, she led him out of the bar and onto the wet street. Garrus stopped, his head falling back as he closed his eyes, letting the light rain trickle over the carapace of his face. He could feel himself swaying and the backs of his eye lids flashed as he heard a low rumble from the dark clouds above.__

"__We should get out of this rain." He heard the woman say as she grabbed his limp arm and checked his omni tool. He'd forgotten he wasn't alone.__

"__A room at the Dolar Queen Hotel… interesting choice," she muttered as she dragged him along, "Come on, let's get you home before you pass out right here in the street."__

__Garrus hadn't realized how drunk he really was and it took all his effort to follow the woman back to his room. It was actually kind of a relief having a guide – who knows how long it would have taken him to make it back to his room on his own. Now, if he could just prevent her from robbing him… __

__The woman's hair was a little longer than Shepard's, and she stood a little shorter, but she sort of looked like Shepard… granted with way less muscle mass. Maybe she would let him call her Shepard… they could pretend. __

__Just the thought of it made his skin crawl and he quickly pushed the idea away before it translated into actual physical sickness.__

__When they finally arrive at his room, she sat him down on the bed and he was vaguely aware of her pulling at the buckles and latches of his armour. He attempted to bat her hands away, but gradually he submitted, knowing his fingers were too numb and clumsy to properly undress himself. Damn he just wanted to lie down and sleep. Eventually he was mostly undressed and she pushed him backwards, letting him flop limply onto the cool sheets. Looking back up at the woman, Garrus sobered up just enough to be bothered by the fact that he had a prostitute in his room.__

"__I'm not afraid of being with turians," she assured him, beginning to disrobe. As her clothing fell away he couldn't help the gasp that escaped him at the sight of her bare skin. To his horror, her neck, breasts, and hips were riddled with old bite marks, long red lines of talon scratches fading across her stomach and thighs. "See, I've been with lots of turians before."__

__Now he really was going to be sick, he thought, as he rolled to the side of the bed and doubled over so that his head was between his knees. __

"__I'm… I'm not going to have sex with you," he mustered between heaving breaths. __

"__What? But the way you were looking at me…" she stuttered, crossing her arms in front of her marred chest.__

"__You remind me of her. I'm sorry. I'll still pay you…" he mumbled as he tapped absently at his omni tool before flopping back on his bed and covering his eyes with his arm. "She could have been you," he whispered. All he wanted was to do what he did most nights he came home drunk; lie in bed alone, mumbling bits of conversation with the shadows of his past. __

__Gradually the room darkened and he was vaguely aware of the bed shifting as he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.__

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"Shepard, we're receiving a message from the Normandy."

Garrus tossed the words over his shoulder. The alert from the secure comm. channel was a welcome interruption to the constant rambling from the salarian sitting next to him in the shuttle cockpit. The verbal diarrhea had been almost continuous since they'd taken off and Garrus couldn't even count how many topics had been covered. Shepard had been back and forth between the back and the cockpit, trying to keep the peace in the zoo while not ignoring the constant stream of information leaking from Mordin's mouth.

Since the Normandy was out of order until the IFF was installed, the entire team had been taken to investigate a signal they had picked up from a nearby planet. Turned out to be an abandoned pirate stronghold, but it had been a good chance to prepare for their final mission by test-driving the team dynamic.

Results had been promising.

The shuttle ride was the real trial. They had never had everyone on it at once and in the cramped space it wasn't a reach to imagine a scuffle breaking out. Granted, such a clash between the individuals in this particular group would probably result in all of their deaths. It was some insurance at least.

Hearing his voice, Shepard's sure footsteps stopped just behind his chair before her head appeared between him and the salarian. "Maybe they've got the IFF online," he offered, and she nodded.

"Open the comm."

EDI's voice pierced the dull chatter inside the shuttle. "Commander Shepard, there has been a security incident. The Normandy has been attacked by the Collectors. All crew members, minus Mr Moreau were abducted before we could jump to FTL. Your immediate return is requested."

There was a moment of stunned silence and Garrus felt his head turn involuntarily to see Shepard's reaction. Her eyes were wide and her nostrils flared, something the turian had learned was usually a sign of barely controlled, intense emotions. The thin muscles on her face tightened, causing her ears to twitch slightly before she spoke again.

"Are you and Joker alright?"

EDI continued, "there has been no significant damage to Joker, I, or the ship. I am transmitting our new co-ordinates now."

"Understood EDI, we are en route." She nodded at Garrus, and he hit the intercom.

"Prepare for FTL acceleration." His announcement was a courtesy, born out of habit, but the formality of it seemed completely absurd after the news they had just received. There was a glow of blue across the viewing window and a slight shift, which Garrus was almost certain existed only in his mind, as the shuttle jumped to FTL.

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__Someone was shaking him. He pushed them away but they only doubled their efforts.__

"__God dammit… Wake up!" came a harsh, unfamiliar whisper in his ear.__

__Slowly sitting up, Garrus rubbed his eyes and coughed. Though he was feeling significantly less drunk, the room was still shifting and it took him a moment to realize there was a woman lying in bed with him. The sheets were rumpled and warm, and he felt his stomach clench. Spirits, he didn't remember sleeping with her. Glancing down he was relieved to see he was still wearing pants.__

__The woman beside him had wide, terrified eyes. He couldn't help the surge of adrenaline that hit his system - the predator in him involuntarily reacted to her prey behaviour. His tired eyes darted around the sparsely furnished room, but Garrus found nothing that would suggest why the woman was so upset.__

"__I saw a ghost… " she hissed, pointing into the shadows. "A woman… she was standing at the foot of the bed, just staring at you."__

__Garrus suddenly felt wide awake. "You saw what?" he asked slowly.__

"__The ghost of a woman, I swear to god. I thought she was real! I told her to get out and she just kept staring at you… " The frightened woman pulled the covers up around her and started shaking her head. "Then she just vanished and I realized she wasn't even a real person!"__

__Spirits, had it been Shepard? __

_"___What did she look like?" Garrus demanded, grabbing the woman by the shoulders and shaking her when she didn't immediately respond. "What colour was her hair? What colour were her eyes?"__

"__I don't know! I just woke up and saw her standing there! I tried to wake you, but by the time you came around she was gone!" __

__Leaping out of bed, Garrus dragged his talons down his face as he paced a few times across the room. The prostitute had stumbled out of bed and was already gathering her things. Claws curling with pent up rage, he took an angry swat at the only chair in the room, sending it clattering across the floor. __

"__You're cursed, turian!" the woman yelled as she ran out, half dressed with the rest of her clothes in her hands. __

__Garrus let out a terrible roar. He had missed her - Shepard had come to him in the night and he had been drunk and asleep next to a woman he didn't even know.__

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Everyone had heard EDI's message, so it didn't take very long for the zoo in the back to erupt.

"Did I just hear that right? The entire crew?" Miranda voice was sharp, making the turian's shoulders rise.

"ETA to the ship?" Shepard asked, ignoring her XO's redundant question.

"One standard hour, seventeen minutes and thirty-eight seconds," Mordin replied calmly, glancing at the cycling count down on the display in front of him. Shepard could have read it herself, but it was obvious she wanted it announced to everyone.

Dropping her head, she let a soft breath escape her lips. Normally, Garrus would not have let on he was aware of her distress, leaving her alone with her emotions and accepting that any sort of gesture of assistance would have been completely inappropriate. But now, instead of squelching his show of support, he cautiously reached over and squeezed her hand. She startled, giving him a surprised look before quickly squeezing back. Their shared moment was brief before she released his hand so she could address the growing murmurs coming from behind them.

Miranda and Jacob could clearly be heard arguing with each other over the voices of the other members of the team.

"What the hell was Joker doing?"

"He's only one man, Miranda. If the ship was attacked by the Collectors, I'm surprised there is anyone left at all."

"How the hell do we know they aren't waitin' for us to return to the ship?" Jack wondered aloud to no one in particular.

"What other choice do we have?" Tali offered.

Shepard turned, her hands gripping the tops of the seats on either side of her. Garrus could hear the leather give beneath her clenching fingers.

"It's done." Her voice was loud and it reverberated off the inside of the shuttle. An uneasy silence settled over the team. "We'll find out what happened when we get there. In the meantime let's not jump to any conclusions."

__Spirits, the entire crew__.

As the realization sunk in, Garrus felt the tactician in him start to obsess. Had the Collectors been waiting for them to leave the ship? Or had they been hoping to abduct everyone, including the team? If they really were after Shepard, perhaps this was just a way to get her to fight them on their own terms.

She was doing a good job of keeping up her Commander façade, but Garrus could tell her mind was going a mile a minute. There was no way she would be delaying their trip through the Omega 4 relay any longer.

Apparently satisfied the debate in the back would remain civil, Shepard's hands released their hold on the tops of the chairs as she turned back to the front of the shuttle. Maybe he could help somehow - if he could keep her thinking about the hard facts and strategy behind the attack…

"Why abduct the crew? Why wouldn't they just destroy the Normandy like they did the first time?" It was sort of an amateur question, but he knew it would get her talking, analyzing. It would allow her to remain detached and objective.

She gave him a curious glance, and then indulged him, just as he knew she would. "You're thinking like a turian, Garrus." Crossing her arms, she continued. "The crew must have been valuable enough to prevent destroying the ship outright. That or they think we are absolutely no threat at all."

"Why not take all of us? Especially you, Shepard," Garrus wondered aloud, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth.

"Harbinger has displayed continuing interest in you, Shepard," Mordin chimed in. "Focus worrisome. Possibly related to contact with prothean artifacts, or perhaps interest is purely biological. Difficult to tell. Attack on Normandy shows impatience, concentrated effort to engage. Very plausible Collectors looking for you, Shepard and using crew as bait."

"Well, they won't have to wait long. This package just got expedited."

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__His rage had been short lived, the pounding in his head preventing him from truly unleashing his frustrations on the inanimate objects in the small room he'd been renting. The air was heavy, the darkness split only by the light coming in through the window from the street outside. The pellets of rain hitting the glass were even preventing him from enjoying any silence. __

"__Come back, Shepard."__

__There was no answer, only the gentle sound of rain.__

__The nights had begun to run together months earlier, the days were the only time he was able to catch a few hours of sleep. He was running low on credits, already realizing he only had enough fuel to make it to a few places in the galaxy – and that was before he paid the woman who had dragged him back to the hotel. __

__Any other plans would require he sell his rifle – and that just wasn't an option. __

__Grabbing the weapon from where it was leaning against the wall he sat back down on the bed. Expanding it, he reverently balanced the precise instrument of death across his knees. It seemed like only yesterday Shepard had placed it in his hands, giving him the means to correct injustice with his own judgement. __

__Instead he was sitting in a dingy hotel room. __

__Of course suicide had never been an option – he was a turian, not a coward. And besides, Shepard didn't have a choice, so why should he? This was his life to live, cursed or blessed. He sighed, his eyes drifting around his dreary surroundings. The faint odour of his woman visitor still flavoured the stagnant air in his hotel room. __

__Could she have really seen Shepard? __

__Maybe he'd just had enough of Camala. The faceless people and places held no answers or meaning. It didn't matter how many planets he visited, leads he chased or homes he staked out. Liara had been right; Shepard wasn't going to be found by looking. Standing stiffly, Garrus pulled his armour back on, slapped his weapons to his back and grabbed the few items he'd brought from his ship. If he left now, he could be at the spaceport in fifteen minutes and off this planet in twenty. __

__The rain had stopped and the air was cool and damp. Emerging from the sketchy hotel, his feet slapped against the wet ground as he trudged towards his destination. Taking a skycar would have been preferable, but after paying his visitor, he couldn't spare the credits. The area around the space port was unsurprisingly seedy, filled bars, hotels and warehouses. In the distance he could hear raised voices... but that wasn't anything new - Camala was far from being a safe world. Ignoring the commotion, Garrus kept walking. A few more steps and the sounds were getting louder and a woman cried out. Glancing down a dimly lit ally, he caught sight of two dark figures.__

"__When the job's done you're supposed to get back to work," a deep, gruff voice echoed up the narrow gap between two tall, mismatched stacks of prefabs. "I don't pay you to sleep!" Garrus paused, watching the figures closely. In his head Shepard frowned in concern and drew her weapon, already intent on breaking up the conflict. __

"__Come on Yorick, I was tired... I was only there for two hours, and he paid me!"__

__He immediately recognized the voice of the woman as the prostitute who had been in his room earlier. Giving a reluctant glance in the direction of the spaceport, he started down the alley. As he approached the two figures, he carefully dropped the bag he was carrying and momentarily considered drawing his rifle. __

__No, that was just too easy.__

"__You don't get to choose how you spend your time!" he yelled, hitting the woman hard across her face. When she stumbled back he bent over and hit her again, and again, her arms too thin and weak to protect her from the blows. A hard backhand sent her tumbling into a garbage filled puddle at his feet.__

__He wasn't anything more than a quickly moving shadow in the darkness, creeping closer until he could clearly see the scene unfolding. Grabbing the woman by the hair, the well armed batarian tipped his head to the left in disgust as he began to shake her, his other hand covering her mouth as she yelped in pain. "How long have you been stealing from me? Do you think I'm stupid?"__

_"You're not stupid!_ __Please! I'll do whatever you want!" She was pleading through his hand, knowing that the beating she had received had made her useless to him and fearing the implications. __

"__You're not worth the trouble!" The batarian yelled as he released her hair and grabbed the knife from the sheath on his thigh. "You can forget about ever getting off this world," he whispered as he brought the knife to the woman's throat. Garrus took the opportunity to close the gap between them and in one fluid motion he snatched the knife, spinning the batarian around and into a chokehold so that the blade rested against the pimp's neck.__

__The batarian's breath caught in his throat as his four eyes tried to glance at his assailant. His hands released the woman and she scrambled away on her knees, shaking with sobs.__

_"Who are you?! ___What do you want?" the batarian grunted, trying to sound annoyed and unaffected by the proximity of the knife. But Garrus could feel his bluff in the trembling of his body. __

"__I don't like pimps," Garrus said darkly.__

_"Eat shit turian. You think you can threaten me?! I'll___-." The batarian choked out just before the blade slid along his throat. Releasing his hold, Garrus watched the man drop to the ground, grabbing his throat as he let out a few gargled breaths before going still. Looking down at his bloody hands, he realized they were shaking. __

__He had killed before, but this was something else. This was an execution.__

_The woman's shrill cry of horror stung the turians ears, and reflexively he trapped a hand over her mouth. "Relax," he insisted, not removing his hand until he was certain she would remain quiet._

"__Oh my god... " the woman let out a shaky breath, her face red and streaked with tears. Dropping the stained knife on the motionless body, Garrus rinsed his hand in a puddle and checked himself for blood before turning to retrieve the bag he had stashed nearby. Shepard would not have approved of any of this... she would have wanted the pimp turned into the proper authorities. But there were no proper authorities - this wasn't the Citadel or Palaven. There was no room for Garrus' brand of justice in those places. __

"__Do you want to leave this place?" he asked the terrified woman. __

"__Yes," she whispered hoarsely, still staring at the dead batarian. He nodded for her to follow him, but she hesitated. __

_"___You can stay if you want," he explained, "I'm just offering you an escape." In an instant she turned to the body on the ground, her high heeled boot slamming into the pimps lifeless head. "Stop," Garrus ordered and she paused. "He's paid for his crimes____.____" Reluctantly the woman nodded and together they headed for the spaceport.__

__His strides were long, and she had to jog a few steps here and there to keep up. Neither of them spoke. Upon arriving at the public terminal he told her to wait. She shook her head 'no' but he insisted. When he returned he gave her a package of napkins and she attempted to wipe away blood that had dried around her nose. Satisfied, he led her to the registration kiosk and after a few moments the machine spat out a small ticket. Garrus nodded to her and she followed him to the security gate. __

_"There aren't a lot of places you can go without proper ID, but luckily t___he next ship off world is heading to Illium, it leaves in ten minutes. You have no omni tool and no documents, so you'll have to pass through security with this ticket." She was looking nervously at the people shuffling through the checkpoint. "Listen," Garrus demanded, pulling a shirt out of his bag and tying it around her neck to hide her slave collar. Her eyes snapped back to him as he pressed the ticket into her hand. "I don't have the tools to disable your collar, but once you jump from this system, the remote trigger will be out of range. When you get to Illium ask for Liara T'Soni. Tell her you want to go to the Human Alliance Consulate and she can cover your arrival fees and arrange for the removal of your collar. They can help you get proper identification and get you home. Make sure you tell Miss T'Soni that Garrus sent you."__

__The woman glanced down at the ticket. "Why are you helping me?" He just shook his head at her and nudged her towards security. She was hesitating. __"__Garrus?" The woman had stopped crying and was giving him an intense stare; she looked like someone who was just waking from a long, terrible nightmare. "Thank you."__

__He nodded, and as he watched her pass through spaceport security Garrus felt a strange satisfaction he hadn't felt for a very long time. __

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There was no shortage of stories, especially amongst Alliance recruits. Shepard had heard dozens of tales about ghost ships discovered floating in the dark void of space. Mysterious abandoned vessels containing the scars and clues of ghastly events or strange phenomenon.

She would never forget her first boarding mission - the cool chill that had shot through her as she had stepped foot on a freighter that had been adrift for three years. She'd had a death grip on her pistol and all she could think of were the stories, her imagination creating every conceivable horror waiting behind each door and corner. Even now, whenever they came across one of these celestial tombs, Shepard cringed.

In an unforeseen act of aggression on the part of the Collectors, the Normandy herself had been stripped of her crew. The terrible reality was that Shepard was now the commander of a damn ghost ship.

After holding a brief meeting in the cargo hold, they had split up and conducted a thorough search of the ship just to be safe. Joker had been understandably upset, but no amount of reassurance seemed to help. Everyone was tense, the abduction of the crew meant the Collectors were going to force their hand.

The lack of control was the worst part. The Normandy was supposed to be their base, their stronghold... their home. The Collectors had proven, once again, that security was an illusion. As Shepard stepped out onto the CIC, the emptiness hit her like a tidal wave of silence. Giving the order to proceed to the Omega 4 relay had been too easy.

Two hours. It wasn't a lot of time.

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	14. Chapter 14

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Chapter 14

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"Joker."

"Commander."

His hands, which were normally attentively tapping away at his console, rested limply on the armrests of his chair. The sad smirk on his face confessed the difficult time he was having trying to hide the blame he placed on himself for losing the Normandy's crew to the Collectors. Standing quietly beside his chair, Shepard waited patiently, giving him the time he needed to compose himself before speaking.

"I just found a recording Kelly secretly made of me singing along to asari pop songs..." He let out a short, miserable laugh and shook his head, "she probably had plans to blackmail me with it."

"You listen to asari pop?" Shepard couldn't help but ask, and it would have been hilarious if the person who recorded it wasn't half a galaxy away, being held prisoner or possibly dead.

"Guilty pleasure," he answered, but there was no humour in his voice. "I shouldn't have given her such a hard time," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "She was actually nice to me, checked on me and genuinely seemed interested in talking to me despite my… " he motioned at his legs, "well you know."

"You mean despite your unique sense of humour?" Shepard corrected as she slid into the chair in front of the neighbouring station.

"That too," he admitted as they both looked out the viewing windows, contemplating the blue glow outside as the Normandy sped at FTL speed towards the Omega 4 relay.

"You know, Garrus sat in that chair almost the entire time you were missing in Bahak, well, when he wasn't tearing up the ship at least." Joker leaned forward in his chair. "It was beginning to look like he was just going to start murdering people at random out of sheer frustration."

Shepard felt the muscles in her brow tighten. These were things she didn't enjoy hearing.

"I've never felt like that about anyone. Hopefully one day I will. You guys are lucky." He paused for a moment, then let out a short laugh. "Most of the crew was wandering around like orphaned kittens." His voice had taken on a more familiar tone. "I honestly don't know who would have stepped up to take your place if you'd never come back. Those are big shoes to fill..." Joker shrugged, "And that's assuming anyone survived Garrus' meltdown."

"I guess it's a good thing I've got an extended warranty." Shepard said thoughtfully, before turning her chair to face the pilot. "You know I'm going to do everything I can to bring them back."

The pilot nodded slowly, his eyes still staring out into space.

"I just wish I could have told her… I don't know…" The pilot's casual shrug seemed forced and it was easy to see the tension in his shoulders from the heavy weight he carried. 

"Listen to me Joker, none of this is your fault," Shepard assured him, but he didn't react and she couldn't even be sure he'd heard her. "Kelly will have lots of chances to get back at you with that recording once she's back on board the ship." He glanced at her, trying to nod in agreement, but he still didn't seem convinced. In an unusual display of support, Shepard stood from her chair and laid a hand on his shoulder. "This is a rescue mission, not a suicide mission."

The pilot looked up at her and she hoped she had been able to place enough confidence in her voice to convince him. Sometimes to command, one had to be able to rally the people around you even when you doubted the odds of your own success.

His jaw clenched, and Shepard was relieved when he nodded with significantly more conviction. "Aye, Commander."

Leaving her helmsman to himself, Shepard headed through the empty CIC and into the tech lab, but to her surprise it was empty. Even more oddly she was certain she caught the faint odour of flowers.

She needed to lay off the late night mystery food sampling she had been doing in the mess. It was going to get her into trouble.

When the door to the Armoury opened, once again there was nothing but an empty room. Shepard frowned.

Where the hell was everyone?

Taking the elevator down to deck four, she could see Grunt pacing in port cargo. It was probably best to just leave him alone, she decided. Instead she headed to starboard cargo, where she found Zaeed sitting, making love to his favourite rifle with a white cloth.

"Shepard. I wondered if you'd be making the rounds," the seasoned mercenary drawled, giving her a devilish smile as he tossed the rag onto the table and turned towards her.

"I am."

"Good plan. Don't need anyone having a meltdown before the mission. Better we only have two hours… give people too much time and they start over thinking things." He turned back to his rifle. "You don't have to worry about me, though. As far as missions go I've got a surprisingly good feeling about this one... even if the Illusive man is calling it a god damn suicide mission."

"It's a rescue mission now," Shepard crossed her arms and leaned against the closest bulkhead.

"I bet that's what you called Illos too - a god damn rescue mission." He chuckled, seemingly unconcerned with their odds or the dangers. Pausing, he turned away from his rifle again, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"You know Shepard, if you had been any other person I would have shot you on Zorya for preventing me from killing Vido."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow, "so why didn't you?"

"You mean other than the obvious reasons like the fact that I wouldn't get paid... not to mention the fact that trying to kill someone who has the tendency to come back from the dead seems like a bad idea." He shook his head, "I haven't reached the age I am by making stupid mistakes." Zaeed picked up the old assault rifle and smoothed a hand over the top of it. "I'm actually starting to think this fucked up galaxy just might need someone like you running around it… and as for myself, it's been a long time since I've felt like I was fighting for something more than just money."

Shepard felt a wry smile tug at her lips. "Hell Zaeed, are you in danger of becoming a good man?"

"Ha!" He slammed a fist down on the table, the objects on it rattling with the force, "don't get ahead of yourself, Shepard. You've already got a project on the go... but if you ever get tired of that two toed bird man of yours, let me know. You and I could be quite the team."

"Uh hunh," she smirked, unfolding her arms and turning towards the door. "Charming as always Zaeed, but I'm afraid you require a woman with less firepower and more patience than I."He was still laughing as the door slid closed behind her. Checking her omni tool she cursed to herself... she'd already used up twenty minutes of her two hours.

When the doors opened to engineering, Tali, Mordin and Legion were huddled together - whether they were arguing or debating, she couldn't be sure. Clearing her throat got their attention, and after exchanging a few looks the three quieted their animated discussion and turned to her.

"I thought we had the IFF online," Shepard inquired calmly, a hint of concern creeping into her voice.

"The reaper IFF is online Commander but-" EDI began.

Tali was nodding. "-we were just checking and double checking the parameters since we- "

"-cannot predict possible unknown variables-" Mordin cut in.

"-that may affect mission success. We have been exchanging data to develop alternative procedures for variable scenarios, Shepard Commander," Legion finished.

There was a moment while they all exchanged glances and it became obvious the trio was a little annoyed by her disruption. Shepard had enough sense to hold off on her questions and simply let them return to their debate.

"Alright, carry on." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, their backs were turned and their discussion picked up as though she had never interrupted them in the first place. Mordin and Tali were both talkers, especially when under duress. But Legion? Well, it was probably interested in Tali – though she wondered what it thought about the possibility of its own demise. She'd have to remember to ask it.

From main engineering, Shepard headed down the stairs to check on Jack, but here also she found only an empty cot.

Deck three seemed just as quiet. Making her way to Starboard Observation she poked her head in when there was no answer at the door. Kasumi was sitting on one of the couches, locked in a trance with the memories from her partner's grey box. Surveying the rest of the room, Shepard noted the slew of empty glasses on the bar - it was unclear who had left them, but it was obvious she had missed the party.

Leaving the thief to her own devices, Shepard stepped back into the main hall. life support held the next closest team member, but she hesitated, deciding instead to check on Samara first.

Surprise didn't even come close to Shepard's reaction as the doors to port observation opened. It would have been just as likely for her to have walked in on Grunt and Garrus expertly waltzing to some obscure piece of classical music. What she actually saw was Samara, sitting beside none other than Jack, both of them with their legs crossed, cradling a ball of blue biotic energy between their hands.

"Commander," Samara said calmly and Shepard took a few cautious steps forward and carefully sat down beside the two powerful biotics. Even taking a breath seemed risky, any sudden move might possibly disrupt whatever delicate forces were allowing this bizarre scene to take place.

"I'm just checking on everyone," Shepard explained, not meaning to speak so quietly and not being able to take her eyes off the two women.

"We're ready," Jack said adamantly, her eyes remaining closed. Whether or not these meditation sessions had been happening daily or if this was just a spur of the moment event, Shepard couldn't be sure. Either way, she had never seen Jack so… serene.

"You should join us, Commander," Samara's eyes momentarily lost their bright glow as she gave Shepard an intense look. "I could help you control your untested biotic potential."

How the Justicar knew about that, Shepard didn't know, but instead of quizzing her about it, she simply shook her head and pushed herself up off the floor. She was hesitant to leave - as concerned as she was about being in the room with Jack and Samara, she was far more worried about leaving them unsupervised.

A little trust, Shepard thought to herself. Samara's pledge probably prevented her from killing Jack on principle. It was amazing what people were capable of doing when faced with the possibility of their death.

"I might have to take you up on your offer after the mission."

The asari nodded in understanding, her eyes lighting up once again as she returned to her meditations. Shepard gave the two women one more unbelieving look before stepping out of the room.

The mess hall was disturbingly empty and Shepard stopped just short of Miranda's door when she noticed the control was red. Locked doors on the eve of a suicide mission were a clear enough message for her, so she ignored the muffled voices inside, and headed on to life support.

Stepping through the doors and into room that housed the machines and computer that kept them all alive, Thane gave her a customary tilt of his head.

"Siha."

As always, his back was to her – which always seemed odd considering he was an assassin. As she came up behind him, he motioned for her to sit. It was a familiar routine. As his large dark eyes watched her with their characteristic intensity, she felt a familiar pang of regret tugging at her heart – it was a feeling that she was beginning to associate with him. He had admitted his affection for her and in so doing had forced her to turn down a dying man.

"How is the team?" he asked in his low, gravelly voice.

"So far everyone seems to have written their letters and made peace with their demons."

"I think allowing people the chance to take care of 'loose ends' was a wise decision." The drell leaned back in his chair. "And you? Have you written your letters and made peace with your demons?"

Shepard had been so worried about her team and about the crew that she hadn't really thought about it. "I have no one to write to… and my demons, well..." she shrugged, "they aren't so easily bargained with." Sitting forward she gave him a serious look. "I'm here to see how you are."

Thane gave her a long serious look before answering. "I believed after so many years of work and having made peace with death that I would be ready for this mission. But I am finding that after being asleep for so long, the taste of life is more potent than I ever imagined. Accepting that this mission would most likely be my last, I told myself that I had lived enough. But now... this intense desire, not simply to succeed, but survive, overwhelms me – and I am ashamed to admit that for the first time in many years, fear is beginning to taint my selfless resolve."

"Thane… a desire to live is a good thing. It makes us stronger. Fear of death is simply the fear of losing the things we care about – it doesn't make us weaker."

"Perhaps you are right… can I ask…" He folded his hands in a way that told her he was going to ask her a difficult question. "As someone who has experienced death, what was it like?"

She frowned at him and shrugged, quickly forming the lie as her lips parted. "It was… peaceful."

The drell studied her for a long moment, his eyes begging silently with their dark intensity that her words be the truth. She had to work not to clench her jaw or look away. "And then?" he whispered.

Shepard could only look back at him, and though she took in a long breath with the intention of giving him some sort of answer, she had no idea what to tell him. Shaking her head, she looked down at the table. There was a brief silence between them.

"Thank you for seeing me. I am confident we will achieve our goal," he concluded, and she could only nod absently, her mind still mulling over his question. He continued to speak, despite her somewhat distracted response. "If I don't survive, know that what you've done for me..."

The tone of his voice compelled her to reach over and place a reassuring hand on his, hoping he would realize that he didn't need to thank her for anything. As his voice drifted off she glanced up to find him watching her intently with his bottomless, dark eyes. Anxious to wrap up her tour of the ship, she was about to stand when she felt him shift. In one smooth motion he leaned towards her, gently brushing his lips across her cheek. The kiss was feather light, and she sat stunned for a moment, feeling his cool breath against her neck as he slowly pulled away.

"I'm sorry, I..." Thane murmured as she slid her fingers from his grasp. Leaning back, he bowed his head as she stood, her expression still barely masked shock. But part of her couldn't just walk out, so as she passed his chair she briefly placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. It should have been a brief moment of contact, but as her hand fell away he caught her by the forearm and looked up at her. His expression was alarming, the passion in his eyes not what she expected.

Shepard felt her stomach tighten.

But just as quickly as it had happened, Thane released his grip and turned back towards the window looking into the drive core. It took a second for her to properly collect herself before she quietly slipped back through the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Stepping out into the empty corridor, Shepard let out a long relieved breath. Stressful mission made people do and say things that were sometimes out of character...

_That didn't make them any less true_, her mind whispered.

Momentarily she wondered if she should wash up. Garrus had an excellent sense of smell, but would he really know Thane had kissed her? Or that he had actually held her in place and given her the pleading look of a dying man desperate to have one more love in his life?

No, she had nothing to hide. In fact, she would probably just tell Garrus exactly what had happened – at least then she could control the situation. She really didn't need a bunch of men with their chests puffed out jockeying for position.

No apologies, no regrets... no loose ends.

She'd told Thane that she had no loose ends, but that really wasn't true. What was her loose end?

More like who. She supposed it would be Kaidan, and she had the feeling her ex-lieutenant would say she was his. From what she had heard about his encounter with Garrus on the Citadel, his feelings for her were far from resolved.

Apparently it was bad for one's mental health to become involved with her. Not that she really seemed to have much control over it. Kaidan deserved some sort of response to his message, some sort of olive branch before he possibly received word she was dead... again. It had just been so easy to put off. Each morning she thought of writing that message, and every evening it had been the farthest thing from her mind. Now there was no time to write it, at least, not properly. Her priority was to check on the team – make sure there were no second thoughts, no uncontrollable nerves - and he wasn't part of the team, was he? Dropping off people who weren't dedicated to the mission had been something she was prepared to do.

If she was going to be honest with herself, all she'd really wanted to do was spend the entire two hours with Garrus. Maybe that was selfish of her, but it was rare she ever did things solely for her own benefit. Unfortunately it would be her dedicated turian who suffered in the long run. Assuming they even survived their mission against the Collectors, and until the reaper madness was over, they were just going to have to take whatever they could get.

Tali was right - Commander Shepard was terrible at intimacy.

Bringing up her omni tool, she leaned against the bulkhead at the edge of the empty mess hall and sighed. Some sort of message, even one not entirely planned out, would probably be better than no message at all. She was just going to have to keep it short and honest.

'__Kaidan -__

__I find myself writing you this message with less time than I would have liked. I should apologize for not sending you this sooner. What happened between you and Garrus on the Citadel was, unfortunately, partially my fault. '__

Should she be apologizing? Would have replying to his message sooner really have prevented Garrus and Kaidan's pissing contest on the Citadel? Would she have even told him she and Garrus were...

No. What she had with Garrus had nothing to do with him. They'd had a brief romance, but it didn't entitle him to an explanation.

Tapping away at her omni tool she deleted the last line and then continued.

'__Your words on Horizon would have been difficult for me to hear from any of my crew, but I am sure you, along with many others, were not expecting to see me alive and wandering around the galaxy with backing from Cerberus. Everyone has changed, and it has taken some time for me to catch up.'__

What she really wanted to say was that his words had been insulting, that they had been a knife in her side. But she had enough experience with him to recognize that his anger had simply been hurt in disguise. Even if she didn't love him back, she wasn't going to trivialize his feelings. Obviously, seeing her had thrown his life completely upside down.

Maybe that's what she was really apologizing for.

'__By now you've probably read reports and heard all kinds of rumours about my activities. All I can tell you is that I haven't done anything without good reason. What you choose to believe is up to you.'__

Of course he'd have heard about Bahak, and probably knew enough details about their mission to stop the Collectors. But the line was meant to encompass all the things he'd heard, not just those bits of intel that would be of interest to the Alliance.

'__We are about to attempt a jump through the Omega 4 relay. I just wanted to say you're a good man, Kaidan, and there is no reason why you shouldn't be happy. ' __

It wasn't the most eloquent message she'd ever written, but if she was going to be completely honest with herself, she hadn't written many letters to ex lovers. Trying to lessen the blow of possibly receiving news of her death a second time was really only a gesture. If he did still love her, there was nothing she could say that would make it any easier for him if she were to never return.

Perhaps that was why Garrus was so willing to follow her into any number of perilous situations, no matter the risk. Live together, die together. It kept things tidy.

Making her way towards the main battery, she read the message over once more before adding it to the list of other messages waiting to be sent when the Normandy was close enough to the Sahrabarik system comm. buoy.

Looking up, the familiar set of doors greeted her in the silence of a ship holding its breath. Stepping forward sent them retreating, but to Shepard's surprise the room that housed the ships main gun was... empty. That meant her gunnery officer could really only be one other place. Glancing at her omni-tool, she cursed again and turned on her heels.

She'd lost almost forty minutes.

Her quick walk became a jog as she hurried to the elevator, cringing at the muffled moans coming from Miranda's office. As the elevator doors closed she selected deck one and let out a breath. Running a hand through her hair, Shepard glanced at her reflection in the shiny mirrored edging around the door. It seemed kind of silly that she would be worrying about her appearance now, as if Garrus would have any sort of idea in his mind of what a beautiful human woman should look like. He'd seen her at her worst, bloodied, injured, angry, drunk, and probably a whole host of other unflattering states.

Looking at herself, she decided that Garrus must be crazy. Men wanted her, but only because they loved the idea of her. The daily pressures of her life, the dangerous missions, the bloody hands – she was only a conquest. Something they could look back on in their twilight years and say, 'yes, I was involved with Commander Shepard…'.

For some reason Garrus seemed to want something more.

The scars on her face had healed a little more, and she pressed a few fingers against the barely visible cracks of red as she inspected her reflection. She hated those scars. They reminded her just how inhuman, how unnatural, she really was.

Chakwas had offered to remove them, but that seemed like such a copout. She wasn't about to deny who she was – and if that meant looking a bit like a cyborg, then so be it. It wasn't the only scar Chakwas had offered to remove.

'__There is an enzyme that turian's release in their saliva when they are bonding with a mate. It is intended to cause scarring.' __

The doctor had offered to remove that scar as well, but she'd refused. Shepard firmly believed that the body was meant to tell the story of one's life. That was just another chapter, though right now her body was telling her it was time for battle. She could feel it humming with the anticipation of the upcoming mission, as well as the encounter she was about to have in her quarters. She'd always had these sorts of feelings before a mission, but now, with the implants and cybernetics, whatever Cerberus had done had magnified her nervous anticipation tenfold.

The elevator doors swished open and Shepard took a step towards her cabin – then paused. There was that smell again, that same delicate scent from Mordin's lab... fresh, fragrant... a flower she couldn't quite place.

She shook her head, her mind drifting back to the eve of their last suicide mission. It was hard to believe those hours which seemed like weeks earlier, were actually years past.

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__Her door beeped, which wasn't exactly out of the ordinary. What was, however, was who she saw over her shoulder. The only turian on the ship took a confident step into her quarters, then proceeded to fidget uncomfortably as he glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings. __

__Swivelling in her chair to face him, she was puzzled by his curt and overly professional nod. Politely abandoning the datapad she had been worrying for the past ten minutes, Shepard waited for him to speak.__

__His mandibles flared, but there were no words. __

"__Garrus?" she finally prodded and it seemed to be enough to spur him into action.__

"__Commander, I just wanted to… see how you were." __

__She wasn't buying it, and even he seemed to frown at his own choice of words. Standing, she rolled her shoulders while she took a moment to scrutinize him. Never had she seen him quite so... distracted. Approaching the small table that lay between them, she motioned him to sit, but he tilted his head in refusal then almost comedically looked around at her quarters.__

"__That's an awfully large bed," he suddenly said and Shepard felt her eyebrows rise. "I mean, for a military vessel... err... the Captain's quarters on this ship are quite spacious." He cleared his throat awkwardly and clasped his hands behind his back. __

__Garrus was a curious puzzle. Willing to do whatever it took to complete a mission, he was as Harkin had described - a hothead. But it wasn't naivety that made him so rash... it really seemed to be a desire to fight for the greater good. She couldn't really say she knew any turians that she could compare him to, so it was impossible to know if his awkwardness was the result of their cultural differences or if it was just him. Still, she couldn't help but find it somewhat enduring.__

__Taking a step closer to him, she noticed how he straightened up ever so slightly, lifting his chin as though waiting for her inspection. For some reason she rather enjoyed that. __

"__We're still a few hours from Illos, Garrus. What's really bothering you?" __

__His avian eyes were watching her closely. __"__I just wanted to…" he seemed to be choosing his words carefully, "check in with you before we reached our destination and… to thank you."__

"__You already thanked me, Garrus." Shepard tilted her head to the side and stepped a little closer to him. He swayed almost imperceptibly. She was making him uncomfortable, but why? He was tense, but was he angry? Upset? He must have come to see her for a reason. "You seem agitated... Are you having doubts about the mission?"__

"__No," he replied firmly, his eyes never leaving hers as she leaned against the edge of the table.__

"__If you don't want to be part of the ground team-" she continued, gesturing with her hand innocently, knowing that her offer would get a reaction. __

"__It's not that at all, I-" he said quickly before tearing his eyes away from her and looking straight ahead. "Don't you think Kaidan should be part of your team?"__

__Kaidan? That was not what she had been expecting. __

"__Do you have a problem with Wrex?" she asked, already knowing his answer. He shook his head. Whatever his motives were, she really didn't have all night to drag it out of him. "I'm sorry Garrus, you're being too cryptic. You're going to have to spell it out for me."__

__His eyes snapped back to her, those terribly intense blue eyes. His mouth opening but with a noticeable lack of words coming out. Pushing herself away from the table, Shepard stepped close enough to him that when he opened his mouth again she could see the rows of sharp dark teeth. She was certain he could tell she was looking.__

"__I…" he started, his hands dropping to his sides.__

__There was a sudden beep and they both twitched at the sound, as though they had been caught doing something inappropriate. Garrus glanced over his shoulder at the door, then back at her. She continued to stare him down, waiting for him to explain himself. The door beeped again and Shepard let out an exasperated sigh before opening the comm.. __

_"Yes?"_

_"___Commander?" __

__Garrus visibly stiffened at the sound of the lieutenant's voice and she knew it was unlikely she was going to get to hear him out.__"__It's really not that important, Commander. Sorry to bother you." Garrus said curtly, turning for the exit. When the door opened the two crewmates eyed each other suspiciously before Kaidan stepped aside and allowed Garrus to pass. __

__It wasn't going to look very good having a string of men coming in and out of her quarters all evening.__

__Kaidan's gate was brisk as he entered and although she was somewhat aware of him speaking, her mind was elsewhere. Watching Garrus's retreating back until the doors closed, she had to wonder - What had that turian really been trying to say?__

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He'd been listening for the door, but it still made him jump when it swished open. Sneaking a peak through the model ship display, he saw his Commander pause, searching him out in the soft light of her cabin. They exchanged coy glances as she walked towards him and descended the stairs.

Echoes of the reassuring words she had no doubt spoken to her team revealed themselves in the faint smells of asari, drell, quarian... "How's the team?" Garrus asked, as he filled a glass with the duel amino wine he had purchased on the Citadel. Passing her the glass, he poured one for himself. She smiled at him and clinked her glass against his.

"Distracting themselves," she replied as she contemplated the red liquid, swirling it around in the glass before taking a sip. "Everyone seems... prepared."

He nodded, tossing back all the wine in his glass at once. Shepard raised her eye brows at him and he shrugged. They didn't exactly have all the time in the universe to sip wine. Tipping up her own glass she followed suit and Garrus found himself watching intently as her tongue ran across her wet lower lip.

Reaching out, she plucked the empty glass from the distracted turian and stepped past him, her shoulder brushing against his chest as she placed their glasses on the low table behind him. Already an urgency was taking them over, an overwhelming need that company and conversation couldn't satisfy. He turned to face her, exhaling as she brought her hands up his arms, sliding them lightly over the soft fabric of his shirt before coming to rest on his chest.

It was clear she wasn't intending to waste any time, so he'd have to say it now.

"Shepard, I..." he began, gently gripping her wrists to still her persistent hands. Hell, he didn't want her to stop, but if he didn't tell her now he'd never get it out. "This has all been so backwards. I thought our differences in culture, in biology… would allow me to just ignore what happened between us, that I could just live with it, but I can't. When we were first together… I… I wronged you when I bit you. I had no right..."

"I believe I did the same to you... " her low voice mused as she slipped her hands from his loosening grip, disregarding his apology as her fingers began to run across the edge of his cowl. "As I recall, we were both a little… wound up."

"No, it's more than that... it's..." he looked down, feeling the shame he'd been trying to contain bubble back up to the surface. He should have told her as soon as it happened – putting it off had just made it that much worse. She should be angry, enough to kick him out of her quarters and it would be deserved – but she was just... touching him - her hands running impatiently over his clothed body. "Letting yourself be marked is a sign of submission that turians only do with their life mates. But you didn't know, and I shouldn't have done it. I just – it was..."

"What else would happen…" she interrupted, looking right at him as her fingers began working the clasps of his shirt. The fire in her eyes made his stomach burn.

"What else would happen?" he repeated, not sure he'd heard her right. She nodded.

"… if I was your mate?" she finished for him, cool air tickling the flesh of his exposed chest as her hands brushed over his shoulder, letting his shirt fall to the floor. Her intense gaze was fixed on his body now, her eyes focused on every plate, every ripple of muscle.

"You would..." Garrus began, his voice horse. He swallowed and closed his eyes. "You would have tattoos..." he choked out.

"Where?" she whispered, leaning closer to him, her uniform brushing against his bare chest. Her hands were tracing the shifting gaps between the plates of his chest as he breathed; their southward journey crossing his muscled abdomen until her fingers were tugging at the edge of his pants and pressing against the sensitive flesh of his waist.

He felt his heart rate double. "Like mine..." he finally mumbled, opening his eyes and motioning from her shoulder down to her feet. His gesture earned him one elegant eyebrow arch before she grabbed him by the cowl, pulled him close and pressed her check against his so that her hot breath tickled his ear.

"Show me." It was whispered, but there was no mistaking the command in her tone. Garrus felt his mandibles quiver but he remained frozen in place. Perhaps she sensed his doubt, because she reached for his hand and placed it where the clasps of her uniform began. He didn't need any more encouragement, but his talons were shaking so badly that it was a struggle to free her from her dress shirt. He didn't know why he was so nervous, but to her credit, Shepard took the initiative and easily undid the clasp of her bra and shrugged it off as he could only stare, transfixed by the delicate curve of her collar bone, the soft skin of her breasts and strong muscles of her shoulders.

"Show me," she repeated more intently. Barely restrained need was burning inside him.

"They would start here… " his eyes dropped from her face to where his hand was hovering over her shoulder, "where I… marked you." His touch was light, meant only to demonstrate, hypothesize. Reaching for him, he half expected her to brush his hand away, but instead she pressed his talons down hard and pulled, letting them drag bright white lines along her pale skin. When he pulled back his hand, the marks changed to pink, a few spots revealing small pin points of blood.

The quick breath he inhaled was audible and he felt his eyes widen. There was expectation in her face, and she nodded for him to continue. It was the moment he gave into his primal desire and let his instincts direct him. Without warning he bent down and pressed his face against her throat, dragging in a long, deep breath of her scent.

"… across your heart," he growled against her, the base of this palm grazing her nipple as he dragged the two talons of his right hand from her shoulder to where the pendant he had given her rested against her chest. Pressing his palm against it for a moment, he covered the grey plate with the identical red one that had almost grown in on the back of his hand.

"...and down to your centre," he breathed against her as he slid down her torso, her hands clawing at his fringe as he descended. A dark blue tongue came out and he licked the area down to her belly button, enjoying the gasp that slipped from her lips. The muscles of her abdomen tightened beneath his touch as he dragged his claws across its flawless canvass. Nuzzling and nipping in the wake of his talons, her entire body seemed to tremble.

Garrus let out a long exhale, his breath hot against her smooth, cream coloured flesh, as he began to unbuttoned her pants. Giving them a few light tugs, they slipped to the floor. Arm wrapped around her, he rested his cheek against the dip of her hip as he watched his talons drag a path towards her side.

"It would cross your stomach, and turn at your hip..."he described, his voice flanging as he slid his fingers beneath the edge of her underwear.

He paused here for a moment, glancing up to enjoy the way her head and tipped back, her body swaying just slightly as she balanced against him. Sliding the fabric off her hips, he chased the garment with his tongue, drawing a wet line from the inside of her leg to the angled corner of her pelvis. Rewarded with a shudder, he did it again, his tongue flicking across the apex of her sex. The fingers on his fringe tightened and he grazed his teeth across the tender flesh of her thigh, feeling the toned muscle tightening beneath.

".. then down your left leg..." he murmured, his mandibles fluttering against her as he slid his way down towards her feet.

She was holding on to him now as he stripped off her socks and shoes. When his talons ended at the delicate flesh of her ankle, he looked up at her, running his other hand up the back of her leg. Face still turned to the ceiling, her breath was quick and her chest heaving. He could feel her pulse racing beneath the thin flesh on the back of her knee. Feeling him pause, she looked down at him.

"And then?" she whispered.

He frowned. Did she understand what she was asking him to do?

"Shepard-" he growled.

"What happens after the tattoo?" her breathless voice demanded.

She knew. She'd read about it, or asked someone about it… Commander Shepard knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted this… wanted him. For the rest of her life.

He was choking on his own breath, grasping a few moments of clarity in the daze of primal lust that had control of him. "Shepard... I can't... I can't offer you anything. I have no credits, I own no property, I have no career or future, and I... " he closed his eyes, desperately shaking his head against her stomach, "I can never provide you with children…"

Her hands found his face and she forced him look up at her. "Stop trying to convince me we can't have something that lasts longer than this mission, than this war. I know what I want, and it's you. It ok if you don't want this." Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, but her expression was one of absolute resolve – it was a look he had seen many times before.

"This is all I've wanted." His quiet confession made her expression change, her nostrils flared and he could see her clenching her jaw.

"Garrus… " her voice sounded more desperate now, more urgent. Releasing his head, she held out her hand and he grasped it. "No regrets."

Taking a deep breath in he focused on the strong scents in the room - the wine and sex, combing with another gentle perfume, one that had always broken his heart. He wanted to remember this moment forever, the two of them together, alive. "No regrets," he breathed, before gently releasing her hand and chasing his palm down her body with his tongue, over the raised red lines left by his talons.

Tenderly, he brushed his stiff lips against the curve of her hip, feeling her shudder above him, he paused. She wanted this. Maybe they could have something more than fighting, bodies, broken bones and desperate moments - if only for a few hours. Opening his mouth he let his dark teeth rest gently against her yielding flesh. "Do it," she whispered, and he closed his eyes, listening to her soft release of breath transform to a moan as he bit down a little harder, pressing his large hands into her lower back to hold her still.

For any turian there would be no pain, there would be only pressure. But her - the throb of her pulse, the strange taste of her blood, the rise and fall of her stomach against his face with each excited breath she took - he existing amid the very essence of her mortality, assuring him that in that moment they were both alive.

With a sudden growl he released his jaws, pushing his face across the fresh wound, letting the droplets of pooling blood paint red across his forehead and fringe. In one swift motion he pushed her backward, his arm sweeping under her and brushing off all the items from the table before the two of them tumbled backwards. The loud crash of breaking glass and the heavy thump of the silver sphere Shepard had pilfered from some Prothean ruin, drowned out their harsh breaths.

In their frenzied state he caught sight of the moment – his commander, his lover, laid out before him like some preternatural feast on the eve of the apocalypse. The most dangerous woman in the universe and she had chosen him and only him. Dragging his long blue tongue up her body, he lavished the smooth flesh he had marred with soothing licks and insistent nips, his movements becoming more aggressive with each airy sigh and sharp moan he earned from the woman beneath him. Her head was leaning back, and scooping a hand under her neck, he rubbed his hard lips against her exposed throat, letting his teeth slide dangerously along the fragile skin.

Tilting her head up, he pressed his forehead against hers as she tangled her fingers behind his neck before travelling lower. Hands sliding down past his chest, her desperation caused her to fumble with the clasp of his pants. The toes of her right foot had hooked into the snaps that ran from his spurs to his feet, tugging them free in an impressive display of pedal dexterity. Pants off, he clumsily kicked off his boots and pressed his face between her breasts. Her hands were on him, nimble fingers running along the length of him, pulling him closer. Moaning against her, he pressed himself into her hand just as he became aware of another, unexpected scent, and in his lust addled brain he recognized it - as drell.

Growling deep in his chest, Shepard faltered in her movements as he dug his talons into her side and blew hot breath against her moist skin. Feeling the overwhelming urge to dominate, he pressed his hips against her, his arousal digging into her abdomen as he nipped hard at the underside of her breasts.

The muscles in his side contracted as her nails dug into him, her predatory eyes watching for his reaction.

It was too late by the time he realized it was a distraction. He had, once again, underestimated her strength, and before he could prevent it he felt himself tipping sideways. Tensing, he grunted as he absorbed the combined force of their bodies hitting the floor - but Shepard was fast, her lithe body landing above him and pinning him with ease. He tried to shift, but she held him in place until he offered his submission.

Leaning over him, her fingers explored the lines of scars that criss crossed across his lips and mandible before pressing against the synthetic plate still protecting the side of his head. Leaning into her hand, he felt her plant her delicate lips on his forehead, then the flat length of his nose, before finally kissing his partially open mouth. It was easy to let her tongue slide past his parted lips, feeling it graze across the tips of his sharp teeth, he wondered if she caught the phantom taste of her blood. He pushed back with his own tongue, exploring the ridged roof of her mouth and the dull surfaces of her teeth.

She let out a soft moan as she pulled away, her lips drawing a path across the hard carapace of his face. Her hair tickled his nose and blinded his eyes like tiny needles.

"Your turn…" supple lips whispered in his ear and he growled as she pressed her face against his neck, her teeth scraping the tender flesh there. Wrapping his taloned hands around her, he let out another low rumble as she found the spot where she had first marked him. Her mouth opened and he held his breath, his claws curling as he waited for her to bite... but instead she simply pressed her lips against the spot and moved on to his chest.

Painfully aroused wasn't even the word for it, Garrus thought before he jumped, feeling her hand curl around the length of him. Her lips had moved farther south from his chest, and he was beginning to feel like he was about to leap out of his skin. Fear and excitement were making him dizzy.

Was she about to...

His chest was heaving, like he was running a marathon.

"Relax," she whispered, and he glanced down just in time to see her pink tongue appear. Tensing, his whole body jerked as its rough surface grazed the tip of him, ripping a loud hiss from between his clenched teeth. A slight dance of her tongue and he sucked in another shuddering breath.

He'd heard other turians describe the oral pleasures of human and asari, and Fornax had kept him educated. But he'd never actually imagined... Spirits, teeth so close to him... the strangeness of it all, it was almost too much.

Without warning she slid the end of him into her mouth and was rewarded with a violent gasp from the turian beneath her. It was all he could take. Roaring, he hoisting her off of him and with startling strength, tossed her onto the bed. It was an easy reach to catch her by the hips and drag her close. He caught her brief expression of surprise before he pressed against her, his member finding her in one smooth thrust.

Blood was rushing in his ears as he pressed himself into the slick embrace that awaited him. Leaning forward, he brushed his bared teeth against her neck and over her breast, all the while thrusting in the smoothest, deepest motions he could manage without losing his mind. He growled in response to her desperate gasps, the scraping of his clawed toes against the floor and the wet sounds of their joined bodies drowning out the world around them.

Her fingers were tangled together behind his head as he lathered her chest with his tongue, rolling the tiny pink points of her breasts between the pads of his fingers. When her legs wrapped around him insistently, he snarled, matching the instinctual rhythm of her hips with his own.

When she yanked his head forward, he faltered, feeling the light brush of her eyelashes against his cheek before she spoke.

"Love me, Garrus."

It was a plea - the intonation in her voice so foreign to him that he whimpered, the driving of his hips becoming more erratic and desperate. Shepard's eyes had closed, her white teeth biting her bottom lip as she moved against him.

"Always…" he hissed, running a long tongue across her collar bone and leaning forward, pressing his left cheek against hers. Looping one hand beneath her rear, he rolled her forward and pushed into her with focused intensity, unable to stop the swelling that was trapping him inside.

There was a sharp stab of nails on his neck, and the caress of her mouth against the side of his head as it opened in a silent scream was enough to send him hurtling over the edge with her. Every muscle in her body tensed as she arched beneath him, and he roared, digging his talons into the bed as he joined her in primal ecstasy. His thrusts were short and ragged as her muscles gripped him, convulsing of their own accord and draining the life from him. A few more twitches from his hips and he stilled, completely spent and riding out the ebbing carnal high.

Both of them were panting hard, but Garrus could hardly hear it over the thumping of his heart in his ears. They stayed like that for a moment, listening, breathing - memorizing the moment as their bodies slowly relaxed. Arms trembling, he was balancing on his forearms as Shepard looked up at him with glassy eyes, pink lips and flushed skin. She smiled as he wiped the damp hair from her face.

Pushing herself up on one elbow, she pulled his head to her own, their foreheads meeting as they let their breaths mingle in the space between. Still trapped inside her, he closed his eyes and gave a slow tentative thrust. She released a soft breath and he nuzzled his face into her neck, pushing her back into the bed and simply enjoying the way her warmth surrounded him completely.

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

Doing up the last few buckles on her armour, Shepard looked at the woman staring back at her through the glass of her bathroom mirror. The face was familiar, but there was something in the eyes... something that had never been there before. She shifted her weight and the mark on her hip gave a phantom protest - brief images from the hours before flashing through her mind like some underground pornographic fetish film.

Suicide missions made people do things that were out of character… right? Or maybe she was crazy. Or maybe she was just tired of doing everything alone.

Garrus had made it clear he didn't like the idea of causing her pain. All she knew was that it felt right. Whether or not her rational mind believed it was right didn't matter. It felt right.

Stepping back into the room, she took quick stock of her destroyed quarters. The broken glass, spilt wine, datapads strewn about, also covered in wine. There was a rainbow of blood - on the table, on the floor where Garrus had rolled around in broken glass and not even realized it. Then there was the mangled bed, with its stained sheets, one with a tear in it the size of a dinner plate – also a complete mystery.

Suicide missions could explain a lot of things, but the animalistic destruction in front of her spoke of something darker, something Shepard wasn't really willing to acknowledge. The state of her quarters should have told the story of deep set intrinsic passion, but it looked more like a god damn murder scene.

What exactly had died, she wondered.

"__Commander, we've making our approached to the relay," __Joker's voice announced.

"Understood."

Clean up could wait until later - if she survived. Hesitating at the top of the stairs, there was one item her eyes kept returning to.

Something organic looking that had been a caught in their overzealous lust. On closer inspection she realized it was a single lily, laying on her coffee table, the delicate white petals browning where they had been crushed and bent. Just another casualty of her and Garrus'… well… she would decide what to call it later – if there was a later.

Descending the stairs, she pinched the stem between her gloved fingers. It seemed like an odd choice for a turian – he had never professed an interest in botany and she didn't know him as the type to just do things arbitrarily. As the flower's fragrant scent reached her nose, she was immediately taken back to the intensity of moments before - the anticipation outside her door, the passionate promise of something more and the animalistic celebration of their existence.

Her stomach fluttered.

Taking the flower she bounded up the stairs to her desk and grabbed one of the old fashioned paper books off the shelf. Opening it, she dropped in the flower and trapped it between the brown pages before heading out the door.

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	15. Chapter 15

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Chapter 15

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Illium - the slick, glossy underbelly of asari society - seductively charming, and just as willing to welcome you with spread legs as it was to empty your credit account.

Garrus would have liked their first stop after their suicide mission to be someplace else, preferably warm and sunny, but he didn't get to make those decisions.

To his left hung the Normandy, her scorched hull and mangled panelling standing in frightening testament to how narrowly they had slipped through the cold death grip of the collectors and the omega 4 relay. Like a ragged traveller staggering into to a local tavern, dishevelled and blooded, she was earning her fair share of craned necks and hard stares in the busy spaceport. Though so far no one had dared asked where she'd been, or question what horrors she'd faced.

To his right, Shepard stood in all her glory. In full armour, she was exercising the natural intensity of her presence upon the dock's salarian shift foreman, her clipped words sending his eyes in every direction but her face. If the foreman knew who she was, he was wisely keeping it to himself. Of course no one there had any idea that the heavily armed woman had just made silent history. And they probably never would. One would have to be a fool to bother attempting to recount the events of such a tall tale to anyone who hadn't been there in person. The sheer unlikelihood of the extraordinary victory they had achieved would only sound like the senile musings of a demented veteran who'd breathed in the airlock decontamination gases a few too many times.

Only Commander Shepard could have led a strike against such seemingly insurmountable odds. With military precision and cold determination, she hadn't just rescued her crew, but had saved millions of lives with the destruction of the collector base.

All with no casualties.

Garrus' mandibles twitched with incredulous amusement - The hysterical insanity of it was all in typical Shepard style, of course.

Leaning heavily against the bulkhead, he let his eyes drift out onto the landscape of equipment, parts and docked ships that lay spread out behind the thick glass windows that ran the length of the corridor. There was no sense in guessing the make of each vessel, as his visor registered each one, providing him tactical information as he traced the lines of their geometric designs with his true eyes. An old asari fighter, a volus privateer trade ship, a turian freighter. He paused. The turian freighter was a favourite among smugglers, with its standard mounts for turrets and reinforced cargo hulls. A group of mechanics, engineers and dock workers were mending a large hole along one side, probably from an explosion of unstable goods in the cargo hold. For some reason, Garrus found watching the methodical activities of the repair crews somewhat comforting. People dutifully working away at their jobs, unaware and blissfully ignorant as they crawled gracefully across ship hulls, protected from a fall by the personal mass effect fields in their suits.

"I'm going to start killing people if that damn volus doesn't go back to his ship and wait his turn." Zaeed bit out, his arms swinging a little at his sides as he worked off his annoyance.

Garrus gave the old merc a slow nod in vague agreement as he drew his eyes over his shoulder to where the arguing had been taking place for the past half hour or so. His Commander's arms were folded, her stance mirroring the frustration in her face, her jaw set like stone. They had been held up for over an hour after arriving, and now they were having to listen to the tirade of complaints from an agitated volus ship owner. Shifting his weight back and forth, the volus' enviro suit clicked and hissed with each short breath he took between the demands that streamed through the speaker in his mask. To add to the confusion, it was evident that his translator was broken and he continued to repeat himself again and again, being so convinced that he was misunderstood despite the real time translation of the asari linguist at his side.

Instincts were telling Garrus to step up to Shepard's side and add his presence to the equation, but it was clearly unnecessary. She was Commander Shepard after all, and he was her subordinate. His behaviour needed to stay true to how it had been before they had... become intimate. Not messing up the team dynamic meant keeping their 'on duty' lives as clearly defined and professional as possible.

It was turning out to be increasingly difficult.

Turning back to the ship yard, Garrus felt his eyes drift closed and with that the sudden swift tide of memories he had worked so hard to repress, overwhelmed his mind.

The gut wrenching fear and quick breaths, the close calls and long pauses on the comm., the piercing eyes of the reaper larva, not to mention the tilting floors of the collector fun house.

...Shepard's hand catching him before the fall, how she had helped him to his feet and they had run for their lives. There was no time to look back, and he'd had to tell himself again and again that she was right behind him. Seeing her leap for the ship... the look in her eyes as she realized she wouldn't make it... Spirits, it had been so close.

Like a waking nightmare that they almost hadn't woken from.

On Omega he had realized that death was like a bad smell. Being around it all the time, you begin to not notice it, the initial repulsion replaced by an overall numbness as it gradually fades into the familiarity of routine. For anyone not constantly exposed, its presence is immediately offending. The desensitized individual ends up coming closer and closer to the source before they can sense it. The same was true for death... except that eventually if you got too close it was usually too late.

Letting out a long sigh, Garrus forced himself to think about the less distressing parts of the last forty seven hours. In the moments of unsettling calm after the explosion, the breaths of the crew were collectively held as they waited for some horrendous rebuke from the enemy. But there was nothing. No alarms, no screams, no explosions... just the low hum of the ship and the slow drift of debris outside.

He'd caught her in the elevator just after the final shock wave had passed. As the door closed, her mouth stretched out into an almost unrecognizable smile, her teeth showing behind her pink lips. At that moment he'd felt a resurgence of desperate desire, wanting nothing more than to press himself against her - to reaffirm the continued existence of their fragile love. But the ache of his limbs, the sudden weight of his armour – it was clear that their fatigue was greater than their combined desire. So exhausted, they had simply leaned against each other, letting a few mumbled words slip from their lips in whatever expressions of relief and love they could muster.

Some would call it luck, or maybe madness. Others who knew Shepard well would say it was expert skill and blind determination. Though there would be no arguments that the cooperation of the crew and squad in the hours after the battle was more than just an exercise in cross species teamwork. It had been damn impressive. The traumatized crew had, without complaint, begun a six hour rotational repair duty side by side with the exhausted team. Enough time to work and enough time to see Chakwas and pound back the meds that would allow them to sleep a little. Just under forty seven earth standard hours and a full team inspection later Shepard made the decision that it was time to head home.

Joker had made the general announcement he always made before any routine relay jump, though everyone knew there was nothing routine about this particular trip. Garrus had gripped his station console and held his breath for the brief moment it took for them to overcome the last hurtle in their mission. Even as Shepard made the ship wide announcement that they had made it back through the relay, the urge to set eyes on familiar space was strong enough to send Garrus out of the Main Battery as soon as he had felt the slight vertigo of the motion dampeners disengaging. The cold metallic halls echoed the muted remarks and excited voices of unseen crew members as he passed through the centre of the ship. Stepping into starboard observation, he was quickly joined by a small crowd of onlookers. It had only been when the familiar darkness of the Sahrabarik system blanketed every window, and the slight red glow of Omega danced off in the distance that there was an almost audible sigh of relief on board.

He never once thought he'd be so happy to see Omega.

Immediately after, Garrus had found Shepard in her quarters. She was still in her armour, looking down at the haptic display on her desk as she spoke with Liara through the relay comm. buoy. The transmission was on audio only, but even still, Shepard's voice held a confident intensity he couldn't have even imagined mustering after their ordeal and all the long hours. The crew was sleep deprived, either from work or nightmares, but Shepard had practically been awake every shift since they had helped legion suppress the heretics. It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

By now, reading her body language was becoming easier for him, and he had immediately recognized her fatigue in the awkward way she leaned against her desk, her legs shuffling restlessly against the grey floor. He approached her from behind as she spoke, cautiously running a hand over her back so as not to startle her. Her shoulders sagged as he gently raised her left arm and undid the latches of her gauntlets. Like removing the weight of her command with each piece of armour that came off, she finally seemed to relax. Running a talon lightly over her exposed wrist, he was awarded with a wiggle of her fingers and a slight curve of pink lips as she distractedly told Liara to find them a good ship contractor with a secure and discreet dock.

"It's really good to hear from you, Shepard. See you soon," he heard the asari say before the transmission ended.

Shepard had turned to him then and smiled with tired eyes. By now he was on his knees, tugging off the plating that protected her shins as her cool hands ran across the warm surface of his brow. She had sat down, and he had laid an arm across her thighs, rested his head upon it and looked up at her.

"You did it," he had said, softly.

She had given him a sceptical, if not lazy, shake of her head as she reached around to unclasp his chest plate. "Just don't ask me to do it twice."

Slowly, they had peeled away the layers of armour before dragging their worn out bodies to the shower. There he had glanced into the mirror, the two of them naked, so different. She had smiled, "no regrets."

"No regrets," he repeated. Rinsing away the weeks of fear and anxiety, they had leisurely loved each other amid the thickening steam. It hadn't been the voracious sex romp that had taken place in that same spot so many days before. This was something more – this was validation. Did she still sigh when he slipped his hands around her soft waist? Did her smooth tongue still tickle the tender hide of his neck?

Was what they had together real?

What he needed was perspective.

Caught in the rhythm of their soaking bodies and fervent sighs, Garrus had traced a smooth talon over the fading marks that ran down her side before letting his hand rest against the pendant that hung between her breasts. In the midst of their lethargic love making, she had caught the question in his movements and answered him in a breathless sigh that still echoed in his head as clearly as the moment she had first said it.

"I wish this could last forever."

Straining against her, the mantra in his head swore that it would last forever. He had a feeling he had voiced the repeated promise out loud as well, though thinking back on it now he couldn't be sure. That night, in the soft warmth of sheets and skin, the few hours of sleep they allowed themselves had been blissfully free of dreams.

Garrus blinked away the day dream as he raised an idle hand up to scratch at the edge of the bandage still covering the side of his face. Status quo, he reminded himself as he tried to push the thoughts away. But it was that one nagging thought that he couldn't quite escape...

He cast another sideways glance over his shoulder, his lover catching his gaze for a moment before returning to the salarian in front of her.

For the well trained eye, it was obvious in the slight wince that crinkled the corner of her eye, her clenched jaw, even the way she held herself - they all belied the dull pain she felt. He hated to admit it, but pain had been the first aspect of human body language and facial expressions he had learned to recognize. When first working at C-Sec he had often confused pain and anger. But time spent with Shepard had honed his skills and it was now all too easy for him to recognize the almost imperceptible movements that gave her away.

The worst part was that he knew the pain he caused her was second only to what she received in combat.

He wanted to be gentle with her... even when she provoked him or demanded that he be himself. She saw enough violence every day, didn't she? Though that was perhaps part of the problem. The high doses of medi-gel she had given herself during their last mission had dulled the marks he had left on her to faded pink shadows. When he had seen them in the shower she had immediately silenced his apology.

He hated it... but part of him understood it.

If she had been a turian there wouldn't be pain. His talons wouldn't mark her; his teeth wouldn't tear her flesh. Their intimacy wouldn't leave her skin red and raw. He would never tell her that he had been filing down his talons for weeks. That he had even been on the extranet looking for ways to... ease the friction. He had already proven to himself that self mutilation wasn't out of bounds.

If she were turian it wouldn't feel so violent.

If she were turian.

He had to stop saying that.

'__The pain makes me feel alive'__, she kept telling him.

There was a heavy thud from the turian freighter on the opposite side of the dock that jolted Garrus back to the moment, though you'd never know looking at him. Months on Omega would do that to a person. Anyone foolish enough to cower at every hiss, bang and crash didn't last long on the station before becoming a target for the dark shadows loitering in the dirty allies and passages. Everyone there learned to mask their weakness if they intended to survive.

The dock workers were fitting a large chunk of metal plating over the breached hull of the freighter. The bright glare of laser torches illuminated the group of engineers that were already extending platforms out to the Normandy. It looked like Shepard had finally gotten her way.

The repairs that were planned had been made possible by Liara, and the quantum-entanglement comm message made to the Illusive Man by Miranda. Cerberus was funding the repairs, even after Shepard told the Illusive Man where to go. It seemed that taking down the Shadow Broker was still high enough on the Illusive Man's list to warrant further funding. What was it that humans said? - keep your friends close and your enemies closer. It was starting to make a lot of sense, though it made Garrus feel more than a little uneasy.

There was movement by the airlock and Kelly and Gardner appeared on the gangway, their omni tools raised as they chatted excitedly. Shepard waved them over, her voice rising to carry over the hiss and clank of the dockyard.

"Commander, one fantastic feast coming up," he heard Gardner say.

"Good... try to get something for everyone. And booze. I want the crew well lubricated, but I don't want them drinking for the next five days and blowing themselves out the airlock. Plan accordingly."

The two crew members nodded eagerly as they trotted off. Shepard turned to her two companions and gave them a habitual once over before closing the gap between them.

"'Bout time we got things going. The turian's been daydreaming since we got off the damn ship."

Garrus cocked his head innocently and Shepard gave Zaeed a sceptical nod as she opened her comm. "Thane, we're heading out. I've already given the repair schedule to Tali, so she should be on her way to meet with the engineers. Make sure we have crew members stationed at all work sites and sensitive areas as we discussed. The repair teams are coming aboard."

"Yes Commander," came the drell's gravelly reply.

"Alright, Zaeed, I need you to head down to Perimeter Ventures and give them a friendly reminder that we are expecting those coils at the dock in two hours. Our appointment with Liara is in thirty minutes. We'll meet up there."

"When you say friendly reminder, Commander, I suppose you mean for me to keep my gun holstered."

She nodded, "This isn't Omega. We've got local authorities to contend with. Besides, I don't need any more heat."

"No, I suppose not." The old merc grimaced as he turned away from them and headed down the corridor.

Garrus caught a flash of green from Shepard's eyes before she stepped past him and led him out of the dockyard and into the mingling crowds of the industrial based commercial district. There were a whole slew of ship docks and various related companies in the area, and the constant gritty work performed there filled the air with the slight sting of chemically charred metal. Without missing a beat and with enough coordination not to run into the oncoming pedestrian traffic, Shepard raised her omni tool and began sifting through the local business index. As they passed by a series of cargo terminals the people thinned out a little and she tossed him another glance. Though it wasn't usually his place to question her, at least not while on duty, the quick looks she had been giving him had sent the gears in his head turning.

"Something specific we're looking for, Commander?" Garrus offered, but she only shrugged.

They had been quietly making their way through the raised pedestrian causeways that linked Illium's maze of towers when she took a hard left towards a row of comm booths. Just as he was about to make a joke about who she needed to call, she slipped into the last one, catching his wrist and leading him in after her.

The dark tinted glass doors closed with a thud behind them and the controls twitched to life in a bright display of coloured options and ads. But Shepard turned away from glow of the display and he felt her hands catch him by the waist and pull him closer.

"Something tells me you're not planning on making a call, Commander Shepard," Garrus remarked in mock seriousness. His delivery was slow, his voice dropping a little deeper as he registered the look in her eyes. They'd hardly had a moment to themselves since the success of the mission, except for the stolen moment with her in the elevator and the sleepy few hours they'd spent in her quarters, it had been two days of little sleep and eye straining diagnostic reports and shot circuitry. Since returning through the relay the entire crew had been on sleep rotations in an attempt to return to normalcy.

"Oh? And what makes you think I'm not here to make a call?" she asked slyly as she took a step back. He followed, her body bumping up against the brightly lit console.

"I'm detecting a rise in your pulse," he leaned in, his eyes registering the information from his visor as his gaze slid over her. "Dilated pupils and a slight temperature increase in your extremities."

"Extremities you say?" Her head tilted slightly."I'm starting to think that visor of yours gives you an unfair advantage in more than just combat situations." Her voice trailed off, as though purposefully drawing him in closer so he could hear her.

"Are you admitting to being jealous that I can drop more targets than you?" he asked innocently as he ran a hand up the spine of her armour

"You better calibrate that visor of yours because it sounds like the body counter is way off."

He huffed a laugh as he felt her hands trail up the length of his arms. In turn, he slid his other arm up to the curve of her hip, his long fingers fitting snugly in the groove of her armour, just above her pelvic bone.

"You know what humans call this?" she asked, and he shook his head no. "Three minutes in heaven. "

"Oh yeah?" he asked as he nuzzled the side of her face, his mandible tickling the soft skin behind her ear. "I like the sound of that."

"I just..." she began, craning her neck to look him in the eye, her voice becoming slightly more serious. "I needed a moment with you."

He stepped forward and gently hoisted her up on the panel behind. The colourful display gave a disagreeable sound of too many options having been selected by Shepard's rear, though Garrus wasn't concerned. It was doubtful this was the first time the comm booth had been abused in this manner. Worst case scenario they dialled up the turian councillor and transmitted a message of Shepard's round posterior accompanied by muffled, yet obviously inappropriate sounds of inter-species eroticism. He'd have to get Legion to calculate the odds of that actually happening later.

Shepard was running a hand along the collar of his armour as she continued. "Just to be alone... away from the ship, the reports, Cerberus, EDI's omnipotent monitoring...". He was nodding in agreement as he stepping between her knees. Though their armour touched, she still felt light years away. Too far away.

"When that base exploded... " Her words died on her open lips, eyes focusing somewhere near his mouth. She didn't have to continue for him to know exactly what she meant. Like a vengeful angel of death, she had thrown herself at the collectors, bringing her immortal judgement down on them and on that half born reaper with swift resolve and no mercy. The power she had welded had been so contagious; like they were breathing it in while in her presence. They had all felt it - the hot burn of confidence, as though they had been made invincible - lords and masters of all creation. Under her leadership and in those moments the team could do anything, accomplish anything.

And then, as they had watched the last bits of debris bounce off the ancient wreckage that had been the guardian of the now destroyed collector base, their victory high slowly began to fade. Left in that empty void, shadows that had been laying in wait on the horizon were slowly coming into focus. The Alliance witch hunt, the batarian situation, the now probable wrath of the council as well, not to mention the ever present threat of the reapers.

The sound of her gloves dropping to the floor and her cool fingers on his neck made him blink.

"Where are you?" she whispered as she pulled his face to hers. Eyes closing, he enjoyed the warmth of her lips on his nose and forehead, her soft cheek pressing into the firm plates of his brow. His talons searched until they found a thin gap of pliable material in her armour and applied enough pressure for her to feel. Moist lips stretched into a smile against his skin. "You're getting pretty good at finding the kinks in my armour" she breathed against him.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Shepard laughed and shook her head as she reached down and grabbed his left hand, peeling off the glove and sandwiching his long digits between her own. "I didn't get the chance to tell you that you did an excellent job with the fire team." She turned his captured hand over and ran her thumb over the dark red plate that had almost finished refusing on its back.

"You mean I didn't get anyone killed," he clarified.

"No, I mean you did an excellent job leading them. I couldn't have done it without you. You know that right?" She was serious, and the honesty in her eyes made Garrus drop his gaze. He had often concerned himself with Shepard's opinion of him, but it was hard to listen to her praise him when his own opinion of his leadership skills left so much to be desired.

"It means a lot to hear you say that... though at the time I was wishing you'd given me a little warning."

"If it had been something I'd had time to plan for, I would have warned you. Besides, had I talked to you about it ahead of time, I'm certain you would have tried to talk me out of it - and given me a list of all the other, supposedly more qualified candidates." Garrus sighed in defeat, but Shepard turned his face back up to hers. "You don't lack the skill to lead, Garrus. You have a brilliant mind for tactics and your unshakable sense of honour and justice is reason enough for people to follow you..." She slipped her hands down around his neck, her thumbs running along the underside of his chin. "You can't let the roll of the dice destroy your confidence. The betrayal you suffered wasn't your fault - people turn for all kinds of reasons. Being a leader isn't just about control, but knowing that there will always be things that happen outside of your control. People will turn and people will die."

"I had always thought that being in charge would be easier because I'd be able to get more done. Responsibility is a whole other ball of red tape." Garrus shook his head. "But let's not talk about that... shut up and kiss me."

How many times he had wanted to say that, he didn't know. The thrill of saying it held no comparison to the look on the face of the woman in his arms, and it was completely worth any fallout that might have resulted. How many people got to tell Commander Shepard to shut up and lived to tell about it? He was already snickering as she took a playful swing at him, and he caught the fist easily. She struggled against him half-heartedly for a moment, but just as abruptly as it had started, their soft laughs died in their throats. Garrus felt his eyes narrow as the look on Shepard's face changed to something a little darker. Something a little more demanding.

"Officer Vakarian. Insubordination like that has consequences on a human vessel." Her voice had taken on a threatening edge, but the slight smirk she was trying to hide and the wandering of her free hand betrayed her real motives. He played along with a notable tone of sass when he spoke.

"I regret to inform you, Commander, that we're not on a human vessel at the moment," Garrus responded, catching her free hand and pressing himself against her. Their armour met in what was becoming a familiar sound of scraping as their bodies made contact, his thighs spreading her legs wider as he leaned forward. Face buried in the crook of her neck, she shuddered at the touch of his hot blue tongue as he traced it along the exposed skin above her suit collar.

"Mmm hmmmm... Well, I may have to implement some sort disciplinary action to keep you in line," she threatened breathlessly.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it... just as long as you're the one dealing it out," the turian mumbled into her neck before catching the lobe of her ear in his stiff lips. His armour from the waist down was becoming uncomfortable, and being so distracted by her encouraging sighs that he was unprepared for the loud click of one of the armour buckles at his waist.

The hands he had at some point placed on her hips tightened as the latch on the other side sprang open. Her hot breath against the side of his face combined with the light sensation of her cool finger slipping under the lining of his armour and glancing across his abdomen was filling him with madness. Humming low in his chest, he awaited her electric touch with anticipation.

And waited.

"Disciplinary action, Gunnery Officer Vakarian," she replied innocently. He groan against her shoulder as her hands smoothed over the taut fabric that hid his arousal.

"You may find that... "he grunted, shifting his hips in an attempt to gain some relief, "that this sort of discipline may result in... more insubordination..."

She passed her hand over him again and a breath escaped in a hiss through his teeth.

"I'm counting on it," she whispered near his ear.

**Commander**

The pale hand on the turian's crotch paused... as did the talons posed to mangle the latches on the sides of the woman's armour. The small space was filled with heavy breaths.

**Commander, I'm on my way to our meeting point. Should be there in five**

__Zaeed, you unbelievable bastard.__

"Roger that Zaeed" Shepard answered into her comm, her voice slipping effortlessly back into the authoritative tone that, ever since their encounter in the cargo hold, sent a quiver of excitement shooting down Garrus' spine. Not that he would ever give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Think he'd notice if we took an extra five minutes... or ten?"

Shepard smiled, "that's why it's called three minutes in heaven, not five... or ten."

"Heaven... hell. I'm having trouble distinguishing the difference," Garrus muttered dejectedly as he took a step back. In one graceful movement Shepard pushed herself off the glowing console, providing him the fleeting feel of her armoured hips glancing lightly along his hands as she dismounted. Their intimate encounter, what little of it there had been, was over and as she smoothed a bare hand over her ruffled hair Garrus knew it was back to business.

Status quo, he reminded himself.

"I'll have to inspect the main gun later," she said completely deadpan and Garrus laughed.

"Ha ha clever," he muttered as he fiddled with the buckles on his waist. "Just... give me a moment..."

From the light, casual tone in her voice, it was quite obvious Shepard was amused with the awkward way he was fidgeting with his armour "Sure. Want me to talk about some really gross stuff to kill the mood?"

"No, that's alright. I have a fairly good amount of material. I've only spent the last several weeks on board a ship that has one bathroom for all the male crew members to share. I suppose putting walls around the toilets was deemed a waste of Cerberus funds... " he shot back sarcastically.

If he was going to be honest, he wasn't looking forward to meeting with Liara, so any delay was a blessing. In fact, perhaps walking around Illium with an erection and getting arrested was better than having to see their old crew member. After all, their last meeting had been... unconventional.

Stooping to retrieve her discarded gloves, he ignored her open palm and instead of placing the gloves in her hand he dropped one into the ledge of his collar and slipped the other over her outstretched hand. Her slim digits slid into the armoured glove, and with tender movements he pressed between the cleft of each one, not for the first and definitely not for the last time, marvelling at how any creature could control so many fingers.

"I saw a... what was it... a pianist I think. Back when I was just a young runt," he recollected absently as he focused on her gloves. "We were visiting my father when he worked for C-Sec. Humans hadn't been on the Citadel for very long and they were still sending cultural ambassadors to win favour over the new political landscape." Retrieving the other glove, he slid it over her other hand and she smiled. "We were only sitting a few rows back... I'll never forget that sound, or the sight of those fingers racing across the buttons."

"Keys," Shepard corrected and Garrus frowned. "They are called keys." She smiled. "Come on, Zaeed is going to get grumpy if we keep him waiting."

Finally in a state to leave, he slapped the latches on his armour closed and turned to follow his Commander as she slipped past him and out of the booth.

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__They had been sitting on the cool, composite floor of the sparsely furnished prefab, alone, for at least an hour. Liara's henchmen had stayed out in the ship while the two former Normandy crew members guiltily sifted through their Commanders things. Despite the hot red glow of Intai'sei's sun, Garrus could honestly say that the only other place he had ever been that felt colder had been Alchera. __

__Delivered months earlier, the crates had sat untouched until that day. There were only two, and each one was now being relieved of its contents, one object at a time.__

__Liara had reached in and pulled out a human text, the thin pieces of paper crinkling as her blue fingers carefully turned the pages. She was squinting at the rows of strange boxy, uniform letters, her brow wrinkling in confusion. Setting down the unopened metal box in his hands, Garrus reached for the book and through his visor, read her the title. __

__"Don Quixote" he frowned.__

__"It's not translating?" __

__"Maybe that's the author's name... no... The name of the book must be a person's name." Just as he was about to close the book he caught some writing on the inside of the cover. "For my daughter," he read aloud, "Life is an adventure we can't possibly predict. Love Dad." __

__Quickly, Garrus pushed the text back into the asari's hands. He didn't want to think about Shepard as a child, or her parents... it was only making him feel worse. But wasn't that why he was there? To feel closer to her? __

__Liara flipped the book open again and stared for a long moment at the inscription before closing it and tracing a blue finger down the spine. "I can't say I've read much human literature... " Liara mumbled as Garrus reached into the crate and pulled out a metal box. Inside were several worn paper photographs, the top ones looking particularly old. There was no colour, except for the yellowing of the acid in the paper. The people frozen in the image seemed exceptionally worn and serious. On the back was more human text in curling script that his visor was having trouble translating. He offered the photo to Liara and she put down the book and took the small square piece of paper. She gave the two people a long, hard look.__

__"Two of Shepard's ancestors..." she suddenly remarked. "...On her mother's side. They were colonists just like her parents."__

__"How do you know that?" Garrus wondered aloud. The asari's eyes glanced around uncomfortably for a few moments. She didn't look as though she would answer, but Garrus waited, his expression insistent. "Did she tell you that?" he prodded.__

__"No... It was the joining..." she began, clearly uncomfortable. "When I helped Shepard piece together the message from the beacons..." Liara's voice trailed off and there was a long silence. "I hadn't performed it with a non-asari before and I was not prepared for how strongly her mind would resist. I may have pushed too hard, too quickly." The asari rubbed a tired hand over her eyes. "Of course I had been fascinated by her contact with the prothean beacon, and I will admit that I was... somewhat enchanted by the Commander herself."__

"__I hate to be the one to tell you this Liara, but your... 'fascination' with Shepard wasn't exactly a secret."__

"__Maybe not... " she sighed, staring hard that small piece of paper in her hands. "I so badly wanted to know more about her... feel closer to her. I had hinted at my intentions, but I was sure Kaidan had already been pushing the subject. Still, I felt like I might never meet anyone like her again. That second time... her mind was so guarded it took all my strength to even make the brief contact that I did. Whether she knew what I had done or not, I'm unsure...though I doubt it."__

__Garrus wasn't sure what it was exactly Liara was confessing to, but whatever it was, the guilt was written into every feature of her lightly freckled face. __

"__When I saw you on the dock after the Normandy was lost...I knew..." Her lips stilled and she seemed to consider her next words. "I'm sure things have been hard for you. I guess what I'm trying to say is I could... " she began, then quickly pursed her lips in forced silence.__

__"What? You could what?" Garrus asked with a little more desperation than he had intended.__

__"Do you want to... I mean, I could show you. I could... pass on what I have." Liara placed the photo back in the box and clasped her hands in her lap.__

__"You could do that?" the turian whispered harshly."You could share her with me?"__

__"Well, in theory... " Liara frowned as she thought about it. "Though the asari mind instinctually protects a partner from exposure to the imprints of previous partners –the rare times this block is removed, it's usually only between asari. I have no way to predict how your mind will react when exposed to a human psyche... You could have nightmares...or worse... you could slip into bouts of psychosis. I can't even predict what information you will receive, if any. Or if your mind will even make sense of it." The asari bit her lip. "Goddess, what am I even saying... this is a terrible idea!"__

__Liara stood up suddenly, ungracefully stumbling over the objects she'd left strewn around where she had been sitting.__

"__Wait!" Garrus jumped to his feet and caught the asari by the arm. "I..." he began before releasing his grip and letting his gaze drop to the floor between them. Of course he wanted it, though he couldn't quite admit to himself why, nor would he be able to explain it to her if she asked. __

"__I'm sorry, Garrus." Liara was shaking her head now, her brow knit together in concern. "I shouldn't have mentioned it. I just thought... it would be something."__

__It would be something... anything. The smell of her, the memories... they were all slowly fading. Maybe this would bring a small piece of her back. __

__He hadn't realized it, but he had been adamantly nodding his consent. __

"__And the risks? What do you want me to do if you have some sort of episode?"__

"__I don't know... leave me here to work myself out?"__

__Liara sighed in exasperation."Are you really sure you want to do this?" she asked reluctantly, "If something happens I'm going to feel responsible."__

__Garrus clenched his teeth. "I'm asking you to do it. My choice, my consequences," he declared, and gave her another, more decisive nod. Liara took a step closer to him, and he could feel her cool, glassy eyes watching him with an unnatural intensity. He suddenly felt a bit nervous.__

"__I'm not sure how I..." he began to ask just as he looked up and matched her gaze. Before he could finish speaking he heard her whisper those words he had just been preparing himself to hear.__

__"Embrace eternity..."__

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

"Shepard!"

Zaeed and Garrus hung back as they watched the asari rush over and throw her arms around their Commander. This was only the fourth time Garrus had come to Illium with Shepard, and on none of those previous trips had he accompanied her when she met with their former teammate. In fact, it had been some time since he had last seen Liara, and he couldn't say whether he was glad to be seeing her again or not.

"You really did it. When you called, I just couldn't believe it."

"Ah you know, it was just the same old thing," Shepard shrugged as they parted.

"And the crew? Everyone is alright?"

"Shepard pulled a god damn miracle out of her ass," Zaeed interjected and the asari gave him a polite smile before her eyes came to rest on the turian.

"Garrus!" Liara's eyes widened as she stepped closer to him, her gaze taking in the damage to his face and the bandage that still covered most of it. She did not extend the same offer of a hug, and he was relieved.

"You'd think he stopped the collector ship with his face, the way he looks," Zaeed continued, smirking at his own snide remark. Garrus gave the old merc a derisive sideways glance and bit back a rebuttal that went to the tune of trying too hard. It had become clear some time ago that the man had a real weakness for asari, one Shepard probably hadn't picked up on until this very moment. As fond of him as Shepard was, Garrus was betting she was already regretting bringing Zaeed along.

"Shepard... I thought you said it wasn't that bad," Garrus joked as he motioned to his face, though it was really more for the benefit of present company that any real desire to be funny.

"I don't know Garrus, some women like men with scars," Liara offered, her lips curling as she tried to hold back a smirk.

"Well, see, that's what I said," Garrus muttered, a little uncomfortably, and Zaeed barked out a laugh.

"Had to wean Garrus off his diet of rockets when we found him on Omega," Shepard added and Liara nodded, not hiding the knowing look on her face. No doubt the asari had some words for him, and Garrus sensed an uncomfortable discussion in his near future.

"It's good to see you both. Now what was it that you wanted to discuss, Shepard?"

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`


	16. Chapter 16

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Chapter 16

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Kaidan pushed the data pad away with a restless disinterest that had recently crept into every aspect of his daily routine. Even his eyes, as they drifted across the sparse desk he sat behind, to the brightly lit gardens outside, barely reflected a hint of what was eating him.

Outside was perhaps not the correct word to use.

There was an inside joke amongst the humans on the Citadel - __Another beautiful day on the Presidium.__ They would say it to each other in passing, a knowing look on their faces. Usually there was an individual of another species close by, or sometimes it cropped up when humanity was being slandered in the news. Of course there was never a rainy or stormy day on the Presidium, and that was the joke - but try explaining that to a salarian. Or better yet, a turian - they were almost always guaranteed to take the bait and immediately jump in to correct the ignorant remark.

It was innocent enough, but the passive aggressive undertones were undeniable, and Kaidan was getting tired of it.

All around him, the cool synthetic sunlight of the presidium dulled the hard edges and shadows of the streamline utilitarian architecture that tainted every habitable space on the station. The unmoving, quiet shadows that never changed were unnerving and made judging the passage of time a real test of one's internal clock. This apparent time differential vortex that existed in the soulless office he sat in had him checking his omni tool every twenty minutes.

If felt like he had been waiting forever.

Reaching for the datapad again, Kaidan squinted and frowned at the glowing letters. Messages... mostly inconsequential. He scrolled through them until one caught his eye. It was from Saree, the doctor he'd seen briefly. Pressing his lips together he quickly deleted the message. It had been a knee jerk reaction, and he found himself staring at the spot where the message had been, a half-hearted hint of regret tugging in his chest.

Saree had been charming - her calming voice, wavy brown hair and slender arms had been enough to jolt him awake from his perpetual sleep walking. She had been one of those people you think you'll never meet - someone who sees the world through the same eyes. They had really hit it off, despite what he was sure were numerous warnings from mutual friends about his... past. He had decided not to mention it – not to explain why his eyes would sometimes become distant and his index finger and thumb would absently rub slow circles against one another. In those moments when his mind got lost in the memories, she must have noticed.

Despite all that, she had still seen him. Gradually in her presence, Kaidan had felt himself opening up, finally letting the shadow that had been following him slip back into the quiet darkness where it belonged.

Then the rumours began and the stories started to eat away at him. Intel from Cerberus sources, and then whispers that his former Commander's doppelganger had been spotted on Omega, Tuchanka, the prison ship Purgatory – it seemed she was now a true spectre wandering the terminus. Second hand reports and grainy vid footage had not been enough to convince him. He'd fallen for those desperate leads before. Weeks after the Normandy was lost there were scattered reports that she was alive and kicking. Time after time he had raced out to whatever galactic backwater she'd been seen in, only to discover just another fantastic story.

Fantastic even by Shepard's standards.

He had been forced to accept that she was really gone, and with that realization he had finally been able to allow himself to move on and be happy. Then Horizon had stolen it all away.

Kaidan had not been prepared to see her in the flesh deep in the wilds of Alliance space. Even now, he could recall it with perfect clarity. How he had spotted Shepard from a distance. Though he couldn't see her face, he recognized the strong curve of her back and the ridged angle of her hips as she collapsed her weapon. He'd have known her in the dark, or in another life. The warm sunlight caught the edges of her blonde hair and like a magician revealing a trick, she turned to him.

When their eyes had finally met he thought he would choke on his own breath. Then the surreal feeling of her in his arms... her warm breath and soft hair. She was real. She was alive.

But all his surprise and joy had quickly spoiled in the reality of two years of festering loss. Bitter feelings of hurt and betrayal demanded he condemn and reject her. Emotions had gotten the better of him and he had lashed out, tearing her open with all the anger and sadness that had consumed him during her absence. When he turned away from her, he hadn't taken more than a dozen steps before he glanced over his shoulder to see her and her companions still staring at him. Pride and anger told him to keep walking, but another ten steps was enough time to change his mind.

When he turned back the second time they were already gone, the electronic warbling sound of their shuttle disappearing into the distance. It was just him and a handful of terrified colonists.

Kaidan felt his stomach turn as he relived the memory. If only he'd joined her, he could have provided the Alliance and the Council with much more detailed and accurate information. At least that's what he was telling himself. He also could have been by her side, and this time he would never have let her out of his sight.

Their chance encounter had also spurred the realization that she wasn't alone in her quest. The krogan at her side didn't look like any Kaidan had ever seen before- all soft skin and fractured plates - like he had never seen the sun.

And of course there was Garrus.

Seeing him had been almost as surprising. All the alien members of the previous Normandy crew had been persons of interest to the Alliance. Weeks after the attack, when the Alliance finally had their act together, the crew members had been interviewed and debriefed. All except for one. Even Wrex had complied and sat through his interview. But the turian... he had been the only one unaccounted for, and hell if they hadn't looked for him.

Though years ago now, Kaidan could still remember his first trip to Palaven.

The bureaucratic nightmare to get passage, the oddly nauseating descent to the planet, and of course the strip search at customs. Apparently turian's don't have any concerns about nudity, though considering they keep everything tucked inside, why would they?

And it was warm. Even though he had environmental controls built into his uniform, he could still feel the sun's unrelenting warmth beating down on his head and neck through his protective headgear.

Kaidan hadn't really been sure what to expect when he arrived at the Vakarian home. The building was nice and not minimalist as he had expected. Definitely not the smallest one on the block, either. Seemed the Normandy's turian crew member didn't come from too much hardship, that was certain. The surrounding gardens had been dense, and somewhat freakish looking. Kaidan was thankful that he'd taken a second look at picture he had of Garrus' sister before arriving and was able to recognize her when she answered the door.

Solana had been as warm as could be expected for a turian inviting a strange human into their house. Sitting across from her, Kaidan had removed his headgear and nervously tried to explain why he was there. When she accepted his reasons, he had proceeded to ask his questions without hardly a glance over his omni tool. He wasn't entirely certain why he felt so uncomfortable. He had certainly been in more stressful situations that this.

Unfortunately, Solana had not heard from her brother. And Kaidan figured even if she had, it was doubtful she would so easily volunteer the information. He asked the rest of his questions, and as expected there was very little information. At least he had completed his task, now he could go home.

"Thank you for answering my questions. I do appreciate it," he nodded as he closed his omni tool. "There are no charges against Garrus, the Alliance only wants to debrief him about his time on the Normandy."

"Will you let me know if you find out anything?" Solana asked, and Kaidan finally looked up and met her gaze.

As he nodded Kaidan was taken aback by the resemblance she had to her brother. Her features were softer, cheeks smoother under the thick blue lines, fringe more curled and cowl less pronounced, but there were still some striking similarities.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she had asked with a hint of uncertainty.

"I served with your brother... you two have very similar features," Kaidan tried to explain.

"You served with him under Commander Shepard?"

"Yes."

"You were on board when the ship was attacked?"

"Yes."

It seemed the tables had turned and that it was Garrus' sister who was asking the questions now. Solana studied him for a moment, her sharp blue eyes cutting through the stoic professionalism he had been attempting to wrap around himself like an invisible cloak.

"I spoke to Garrus only a few times after he rejoined C-Sec, and only once after he told us about what had happened to the Normandy," the turian continued. "He wrote to me and said he should have been on the ship... that he regretted not being with the crew."

"He did?"

"Turians aren't supposed to regret. We accept the responsibility of our decisions and move forward, so I knew something was wrong. He said that he was going to be doing some travelling and would contact me when he could."

Kaidan nodded as he listened. Solana leaned forward, her expression loosing the polite mask that mirrored his own. "My father suspected Garrus was having relations with his female Commander. Is this true?"

If Kaidan had been drinking anything he would have spilled it all over himself. Instead he felt his mouth go dry as he fumbled for an appropriate response. "Is she the reason my brother has disappeared?" Solana pressed.

"I'm sorry, I don't know anything about that," Kaidan said flatly.

Then they had studied each other, both unable to accurately judge the others' truthfulness - their strange faces too foreign to read. Eventually Kaidan had stood, as had she, but when she raised her hand to direct him towards the door he had unthinkingly mistaken her action and had gripped her hand and shook it.

Suddenly realizing he was participating in his first human/turian handshake, he cringed inwardly at the mildly shocked look on Solana's face.

"Sorry. I... force of habit. Sorry," he said awkwardly as he released her hand, his head dropping in embarrassment. When he looked back up, her mandibles had twitched and he had the feeling it may have been a hint of a smile.

Since then, she had never let on if Garrus had ever contacted her. And as the months passed, it had begun to seem as though his old crew mate had run into misfortune during whatever travelling he had been doing.

Seeing him with Shepard on Horizon was like seeing two ghosts. It was apparent the previous two years hadn't been kind to the turian - Face mangled, armour charred... His hot headed naive personality had apparently gotten him into who knew what kind of trouble. Of course it wasn't enough to stop him from being at Shepard's side, his expression a stone mask of disdain. At the time, could not understand why Garrus would ever work with Cerberus. He may not have got along with the turian all the time, but he had seemed like a man of principles.

Now it was obvious Garrus hadn't been fighting for Cerberus, he was fighting for Shepard.

It hadn't been ten minutes after their encounter that he had begun to doubt himself, and then full on questioned and regretted every word he had said. Then he had written that letter, and rewritten it over and over, until he finally just sent it as is. You would think by now he'd have known better than to have a few drinks and get on the extranet...

He had sat up all night staring at his incoming message list, and checked it constantly the next day. But she hadn't written back.

Right back to square one.

Then a new round of rumours had begun. Whispers that the resurrected Commander Shepard's taste in bed fellows drifted into the exotic. Someone had made a crack about it before a meeting and the man had found himself on the floor with a broken nose. That had been a difficult incident to explain to his superiors.

Kaidan had enough introspective sense to know that a lot of his issues with turians stemmed from his time at Jump Zero. But Solana had been right about Garrus' affections... and now the idea that the turian had so easily stepped into his place... had it even been his place? The self assured look in Garrus' eyes as they had sized one another up over the rims of their glasses of beer that day in the wards suggested otherwise.

There was a tightening in his jaw and Kaidan felt his molars grind together.

Kaidan had been chosen for his current mission specifically because of his knowledge of the former Alliance Commander. It was beginning to seem that that familiarity was making it both easier and more difficult for him to complete his objective.

There was a soft ding and the office door slid open with a smooth swish. A young turian with two red stripes down his mandibles strode confidently up to Kaidan's desk and gave the superior officer a curt nod. The uniform was black and formal, and Kaidan immediately recognized it as a Citadel based branch of the Turian Intelligence and Galactic Reconnaissance. The single stripe cuff of his sleeve indicated he was only a low level TIGR agent, probably a page. He held a datapad, which he presented to the human with a jerky flourish that Kaidan was beginning to recognize as turian nervousness.

Decrypting the data with his key took only a moment and Kaidan let out relieved sigh.

__Cerberus Vessel Normandy SR-2 spotted passing Omega, secondary sources have confirmed. __

They made it.

Rubbing a hand across his forehead, Kaidan tried to suppress a smile. He looked up with the intention of dismissing the messenger, but the young turian had already left without a word.

He read the words on the datapad again.

It had been several days since they had received reports that the Normandy had disappeared through the omega 4 relay. Attempting to track his former Commander had been more than a little difficult as she had zigzagged her way across much of the galaxy, the long stretches of time she spent in the terminus making her exceptionally hard to keep up with. He definitely couldn't follow her through the relay.

Early reports had said the ship looked like it had hull damage, but it obviously wasn't severe enough for them to stop at Omega to make repairs. He wondered, were there casualties? Had she lost any members of her team? Was Shepard alright? Surely he would have heard something if she had fallen.

Kaidan had spent hours wondering what they had found on the other side of that relay, and on some level knew he should be there fighting at Shepard's side. But he'd made his choice.

A lot of good it was doing him now.

Kaidan read the datapad again.

Confirmation that the Normandy had indeed returned, meant that he had run out of time, and so had Shepard. He had delayed things for as long as he could. The Batarians were relentlessly calling for her head, and the Alliance had been pressuring him to find her and escort her back to Earth. In the beginning the excuses had been easy – he'd report how he had just missed her, detailing how he had shown up to find the area burnt and charred, with a smattering of bodies, as if left for effect.

But now it seemed he just couldn't afford her any more time.

If the Normandy was damaged, and it seemed likely that she was, Shepard's next stop would be for repairs. Omega had repair ports, but lacked the resources and skilled engineers to work on such an advanced ship. Those sorts of sophisticated repairs would most likely take place on Illium. She was likely there at that very moment.

Kaidan sighed. Perhaps he could afford her a little more time after all, he thought to himself and slid the datapad into his desk.

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Joker pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. The hot pinks and purples of Illium's atmosphere were making his retinas burn, and possibly causing him to question his sexuality. Although closing the shutters was tempting, the cockpit felt too claustrophobic with them down. Just as he was considering hari-kari, a slow flashing from his station's haptic display drew his attention away from ritualistic suicide and to the live feed from the airlock. He watched as Shepard passed her hand across the security scanner and punched in her personal code. Joker squinted at the display until he could see who her company was.

"Liara," Joker huffed to himself as he noticed the asari loitering behind his Commander. "That's great, I was starting to think this ship needed more aliens," he mumbled sarcastically.

"The addition of another non human crew member to the ship will make for even more interesting observations of inter-species social dynamics."

"Seriously EDI?" the pilot threw his hands up at the glowing orb of the ship's AI. "It just means more trouble. Besides, I would have thought the past few weeks would have been enough nature watching for you."

"I have compiled a significant amount of data."

"Oh I bet you have," Joker muttered as EDI continued.

"Legion and I have been exchanging observations and hypotheses."

Joker stared hard at the unflinching blue orb. "Oh please no. Please tell me you're not actually gossiping with Legion."

The pilot had been so distracted by the thought of what was surely hours of overzealous synthetic musing regarding the crew's personal lives and how it probably put his own nosiness to shame that he hadn't noticed the unnaturally long delay that was following the completion of the decontamination cycle. When the airlock finally hissed open, the sounds of raised voices filled the CIC and caused Joker to spin around in his chair just in time to see Garrus stumble backwards into the ship.

"-NOT UNTIL WE ARE READY. I DID NOT COME THIS FAR TO TAKE UNNECESSARY RISKS!" Shepard was using her 'pissed off Commander who's going to wipe all evidence of your existence out of the galactic record' voice, and it sent a chill down the pilot's spin. He heard someone slam a fist against the door mechanism and Liara's fiery response was suddenly muted as the airlock doors sealed shut once again, confining the two women inside.

Joker's eyes drifted over to the stunned turian and they exchanged uncertain looks. Shepard and Liara were full out yelling at each other now, to the point where the crew members in the CIC were exchanging nervous looks.

Joker sighed.

"Did your parents ever sit in the car with the music up loud so you couldn't hear them fighting?"

"What?" Garrus asked distractedly, his eyes looking at the airlock door warily.

Joker continued, despite his obviously preoccupied audience. "Well it's settled. Liara has the biggest balls on the ship. Someone notify Grunt that he has to hand in his trophy. There is no way I'd be having a yelling match with Shepard in such a confined space. Mind you, it's been a while since I spent time in any sort of confined space with a woman, yelling or otherwise." Joker muttered to himself as Garrus shuffled up to the neighbouring control station, released the rifle from his back and sat down heavily in the leather chair. The turian hadn't really been in the cockpit much since Shepard's disappearing act in the now non-existent Bahak system.

Whatever awkward silence there would have been between them was instead filled with the muffled commotion in the airlock.

"So, Joker... tell me again about your glass bones?" Garrus asked casually.

"Oh ha ha fuck you, Vakarian," the pilot laughed.

The turian's mandibles flared, his mouth partially opened to expose two intimidating rows of pointy teeth. He was smiling, Joker reminded himself – just think of a dog panting.

"Did Liara beat Shepard to a pair of shoes that were on sale or what?"

There was another slight twitch of the turian's mandibles, but it looked like he was trying to keep from looking too amused at the pilot's comment. "They are just trying to come to some sort of... agreement on what to do next."

What to do next. There was ALWAYS something to do next.

"See EDI? - another alien who's got dangerous errands for us to run. Human terrorist hate group, Cerberus at your service - here to help all aliens with their everyday galactic misadventures."

Garrus looked like he had something clever to add to Joker's sarcastic remark, but the hiss and clank of the airlock doors drew their attention away from their conversation and to the asari and human now standing behind them. They both looked pissed beyond measure, but it was the uncharacteristic slight flicker of blue that ran up Shepard's arm that had caught everyone's attention.

"Commander?" Joker asked cautiously, his eyes fixated on the faint ripple of biotic glow.

"I assume you eavesdropped on most of that?" Shepard asked as she crossed her arms self consciously. Joker felt the collar of his suit suddenly begin to feel a little tight, so he decided not to question what he was seeing.

"Actually Garrus and I were participating in some male bonding via trading of mutual insults." He gave EDI a glance, but the AI was wisely remaining quiet.

Shepard's expression remained unchanged. "We're heading to the Sowilo system," she stated. The biotic glow had dissipated and she unfolded her arms and begun tapping at her omni tool. "Here are the coordinates."

"What about the party?" Joker asked with dismay, "Kelly, Tali and Gardner have been down in the cargo hold all afternoon setting things up."

"The party will have to be delayed. The crew deserves time to celebrate, but they will have to wait until after we're done with the Shadow Broker. Sorry Joker, but since we'll be out of port, we won't have any of those scantily clad waitresses you requested."

Joker and Garrus both mumbled under their breath.

"When the main systems are back online," she continued over their mumbling, directing her comments specifically at the asari to her right, "and the ship isn't a piece of swiss cheese, we will leave - it shouldn't be more than two or three hours. I want the ship to be as close to one hundred percent as possible so we're not at a disadvantage when we get there."

"That's if the intel we've received is even correct," Garrus added, playing devil's advocate.

"Well we won't know if the coordinates are accurate until we get out there. In the meantime, Liara, you should probably stay on board the ship. Kasumi has offered her quarters in port observation if you'd like to be alone, although you are welcome to explore the ship as you please."

"Thank you Shepard," the asari answered with obvious defeat.

"Commander," Joker heard the turian cut in, "you should probably see Dr Chakwas. You took quite a fall off that building."

Shepard didn't answer. Joker couldn't see her reaction since he was facing his station, but he could hear her retreating towards the galaxy map, her footsteps falling further and further away, voice trailing along behind her. "Garrus if you could show Liara to deck three. I have a few things to deal with up here."

There was a long silence as the turian and asari looked at one another. The undercurrent of unspoken history was almost unbearable and Joker decided that maybe there were still some secrets on board that he wasn't privy too.

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__A glassy eye opened to a low horizon of cool floor and a sky of dusty red. Judging by the numbness in the side of his face that had been pressed against the cool floor, he had been lying unconscious in Shepard's never lived in apartment on Intai'sei for some time. Garrus' elbow cracked in protest as he pushed himself into a sitting position, his left hand rubbing the numbness out of his mandible. The place was deserted now, the stillness filled with the slight whir of the ventilation fans. __

__There was no sign of Liara and her henchmen, the crate which they had been nosing through had been packed back up. Garrus almost wondered if he had imagined the entire thing.__

__As the fog in his mind cleared, he began to recall bits and pieces of what had taken place. Liara had offered to expose him to the imprints that Shepard's psyche had left on her mind. He could remember agreeing, and then the shock and moment of fear when the asari had uttered those words.__

__Embrace eternity...__

__He couldn't quite grasp the series of events that had followed, only that what had happened had felt more real than any dream he'd ever had. __

__It had been Liara standing before him, but when he blinked, the blue skin had changed to cream, the fleshy scalp transformed to fine blonde hair, big blue eyes darkened to stippled green. It was Shepard standing before him and his breath caught in his throat. Flesh and blood... a living, breathing person.__ __He felt his hands tremble as the corner of her lips turned up in a subtle smile. The details of their location were lost in inconsequential shapes and shadows that seemed to hint at familiar places. Then she had begun to speak. Garrus frowned to himself as he tried to recall the exact words, but all he could remember was the smooth sound of her word and the familiar assured language of her body.__

__He'd reached for her then, an unsteady three fingered hand gently brushing up against her arm. Her lips had paused, her eyes looking down to where they touched.__

__Garrus hadn't really been sure about what he was doing, Shepard had been his Commander, his superior, his friend... but now, part of him yearned just to hold her. As he pulled her close, he could feel the softness of her hair on his face, the firm but yielding flesh of her hip. __

"__Shepard," he whispered, and without any warning the dream had ended.__

__At least that was all he could remember. The realization that the idyllic moments he was remembering were just echoes living in the mind of an asari sent waves of bitterness through him. What the hell was wrong with him? Swearing at the apartment and at himself, Garrus grabbed his helmet and headed back to his ship.__

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

"She's on top?"

"Yes."

"On top... like in her cabin?"

"No, she is on top of the ship."

"Of course she is," Tali said sarcastically, "Last time I ever ask an AI anything."

She had, of course, already tried contacting Shepard through the comm, only to be notified by EDI that the Commander's comm. had been temporarily disable at her request.

It was ridiculous.

Of course there was one other person on board who knew the location and activities of everyone on the ship. Joker was humming to himself, his fingers tapping the armrest of his leather clad chair as he busied himself at his station. His humming stopped as a deep thud rumbled along the ship's hull and echoed down the CIC.

"Hey come on!" he yelled at the ceiling, scolding the workers outside the ship – workers he couldn't see, and who most likely couldn't hear him, but who had been pounding away for the better part of the last three hours. "Terminus system mechanics are savages..." he muttered to himself as he swivelled around in his chair.

"HOLY HELL!" the pilot squealed, clutching at his chest in surprise. "Tali, come on, I've only got so many clean pairs of underwear under my bunk." Taking a deep breath, he gave the stoic quarian a long look. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," Tali answered as she folded her arms across her chest and gave him a characteristic tilt of her head. "What are you doing up here that's got you so jumpy?"

"Nothing really... just the usual... " he answered suspiciously.

"Then you won't mind telling me where the hell Shepard is? And I know, you know, so don't jerk me around," the quarian demanded, pointing a long gloved finger at his chest.

"Are you kidding? The Commander has been giving me a hard time for the past hour from up top."

"Up top," the quarian repeated with obvious annoyance.

"She's on top of the damn ship," the pilot explained with a wave of his hand up to the thick glass composite above him. Disbelieving, the quarian looked up and suddenly the bottom of a boot came into view along the edge of the glass.

"You've got to be kidding me," the quarian mumbled as she headed for the airlock.

A few steps to the airlock and a double check of her suits personal mass effect generator and Tali stepped easily out of the airlock and gripped the ladder that stretched up and over the surface of the Normandy.

External ship wide mass effect fields had been put in place for the construction crews, who were still finishing up their work on the ship's exterior. That, combined with low gravity mass effect generators in their suits made it easy to walk all over the ship's outer surface.

As she neared the upper curve of the Normandy's hull, Tali glanced down at the long fins of the thrusters stretched out silently below her. A salarian paused his work on a charred spot of metal and gave her a nod as she passed. Tali'd had years of experience doing repairs on the outsides of ships, but there was something different about there being a ground to look down at... to fall to. She was in no real danger, of course, but it was still off putting to see the base of the towers disappearing down into the milky clouds. Illium, with its high gravity, wouldn't seem like a good place for ship yards, but its location on the edge of the terminus and its lax laws on industry meant that the extra effort to build the docking bays at the tops of the highest towers was well worth it.

And it definitely made for an impressive view.

Shuffling around the bow of the ship, a lone figure could be seen standing just above the cockpit viewing windows. Still fully armoured, the silhouette was bent at the hip and peering over the edge of the ship, a plume of smoke disappearing behind them in a long exhale.

"Hey... hey!" Shepard's voice carried over the thump and grind of the metal work. "Yeah, you... scratch that Cerberus logo off while you're down there!"

"Never took you for a smoker," Tali interrupted casually as she came up behind her Commander. Shepard spun around, her hand smoothly extracting the source of the smoke and hiding it from view as she turned.

"Tali..." Shepard nodded and the quarian looked down at the hand she hid. Realizing the gig was up, Shepard shrugged as she slipped the finger long cigar back into vice grip of her canines. She took a short puff and frowned. Plucking the cigar from her mouth, she blew the smoke out the corner of it, and glanced away from the quarian's somewhat judgemental stare.

"At least it's you and not Garrus," Shepard muttered, "I expect he'd have a few choice words for me."

"Shepard, I doubt Garrus is without his vices... but if he knew you were loitering around and smoking cigars without him... well... I don't even know."

Shepard let out a short laugh before something below caught her attention. She suddenly stomped her boot repeatedly against the cockpit viewing window, pointing two fingers at her eyes and then into the ship.

"HEY! I see you, Joker! Watch porn on your own time!"

"You know he can't hear you, right?" Tali asked, humour lacing her voice.

"Maybe not, but he sure as hell can read my lips enough to get the message." Stepping back from the window, she motioned for Tali to join her as she sat. "I've only got one cigar, so I'm glad it was you who found me."

Tali cocked her head to the side as she noticed the bottle sitting nearby. "I'd ask you how you've managed to not fall off the ship yet seeing as you've almost polished off that bottle of wine, but considering what other stunts you've pulled off, it seems like an aimless query."

"Aimless indeed my good quarian."

Tali reached past her superior and grabbed the dark bottle, giving it a light shake. There was only a few swallows left in the bottom. "Has anyone ever told you that your speech gets awfully formal when you've been drinking?"

"Does it now?"

Tali smiled to herself. It wasn't often she saw Shepard let loose, and it was somehow a relief to see it now. "Sounds like I got up here just in time - wouldn't want Commander Shepard falling off her own ship."

Shepard started to chuckle, letting out tiny puffs of smoke. But the laughs turned to coughs and she had to set down the bottle as she pulled out the cigar and tried to suppress the fit. Tali brought her gloved hand to her superior's armoured back in an attempt to ease the coughing.

"God, can you tell I don't smoke often?" Shepard finally wheezed out. The quarian nodded.

"So what are we celebrating?" Tali asked as she leaned back on her hands and watched the salarian workers milling about on the tramways below.

"I just needed to take a moment to remind myself what I'm doing - what I'm fighting for. I also wouldn't deny that I'm trying to relieve some of the stress of dragging everyone through the Omega relay and back." She squinted into Illium's setting sun.

"And avoiding Liara?" Tali added, and Shepard sighed and nodded, though her mind seemed elsewhere.

"I'm not usually one for avoidance, but she's pretty emotional right now. Once we're on our way she'll be alright."

There was a comfortable silence between them for a few minutes as they watched the slow activities in the spaceport. "I ran into Liara and Garrus on deck 3," Tali began, breaking the silence. "Is it just me, or do they seem to be acting a little strangely towards each other?"

Shepard frowned. "You noticed that too?" The quarian nodded, but neither of them ventured to hypothesize about what could be going on. Another large volus freighter was slowly coming to a stop on the other side of the yard, and it slipped into the ship locks with a loud clank that reverberated along the hulls of other parked vessels.

"I heard about what happened today," the quarian said matter-of-factly.

Shepard gave her cigar a thoughtful look.

"Damn thing... only the first four or five puffs are any good." Pressing the end against the ship's hull, Shepard gave the cigar a few taps before tucking the remains into her suit. "Let's play a game called who else do we know who's killed a spectre?"

Tali remained silent. She considered Shepard a good friend, and she knew as much as Shepard needed to vent and speak her mind, sometimes she needed someone to tell her she was wrong, or that she was over reacting. It was not usually something a person with Shepard's personality liked to hear, or heard often enough.

"Or even better, who else do we know who's gained favour with the geth?" Shepard took the bottle of wine, pressed it to her lips and took a long drink. "Or who else do we know who had contact and prolonged exposure to Reaper technology? Who else do we know who's been cybernetically and synthetically augmented?"

The quarian remained silent.

"Who else do we know who was an ex Spectre and wiped out an entire colony, let alone an entire system?"

"Shepard... I don't think that's a fair comparison."

"Why not? You have to admit the parallels are undeniable. I could probably come up with a whole slew of other similarities."

"Is this what you've been obsessing over?"

"That and a myriad of other things," Shepard stretched her legs out in front of her. "I wonder what Cerberus really did to me. Mordin and Chakwas have offered to thoroughly investigate all my 'improvements' but I'm not sure I want to know. I mean you have to wonder, the Illusive man isn't stupid, and he would have known I'd be a turncoat eventually. People like that take out insurance. It puts the people around me in danger – also I'm half expecting to encounter an army of cloned Shepard's or for him to reveal our ill conceived love child."

"Those are some dark thoughts Shepard, but you of all people should know that worrying about it won't accomplish anything."

"Of course – though it's not so much worrying as it is attempting to figure out a game plan if one or all of those things should come to fruition. I thought I was walking the right path, Tali... And then I killed that fellow Spectre."

"Shepard, the motives for your actions are completely different than what motivated Saren."

"I don't know if that changes much. Good intentions, hell and all that," Shepard muttered before downing the last of the wine. She seemed to contemplate hurling the bottle off the side of the ship, then thought better of it as her eyes narrowed in the direction of the pedestrian entrance to the spaceport. "Liara's decoy information is only going to lead the Illium authorities astray for so long. Eventually the Council will find out one of their Spectres is dead."

"You weren't wearing your helmet, were you?" Tali asked darkly.

Shepard shrugged. "Stupid, I know. I'm just not used to being a galactic fugitive." She sighed, "there were at least a dozen witnesses, including a hostage. I have no doubt I was recognized."

"You're starting to make Garrus look bad. He may have gotten three merc bands to team up to take him out, but only Commander Shepard can get the Council, the Alliance, the Batarians and Cerberus to give chase."

"Well, luckily they haven't actually teamed up... yet. And it seems the Illusive man wants to see if he'll get anything out of this Shadow Broker episode first."

__*Tali*__

"Here Joker," Tali responded into her comm..

__*You'll have to tell Shepard to turn her comm. back on.* __

Tali looked to Shepard and she nodded.

"Talk to me Joker."

__*Commander, I think our Illium vacation is over. Your face is all over the news.*__

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__Liara looked up from her desk, and gave her visitor a cautious smile. __

"__Seeing that you've passed through customs and I'm not receiving a slew of urgent messages, I will assume you received the documents I sent you. I have to admit, I was not expecting to see you in person Garrus... Or should I say Err Pesdar." She sat back in her chair and waited, but the turian remained silent. __"__What can I do for you?" she prodded, fighting to keep a sudden wariness from creeping into her voice.__

__Garrus stepped up to her desk, but he didn't sit. He was dressed casually and it was disconcerting to see him looking so lean. The look on his face was even more worrisome.__

"__What did you do to me on Intai'sei?" he asked darkly and Liara felt her pulse quicken.__

"__That was... almost a month ago. And I... I told you. There was no way to predict how you would react to being exposed to the mind of a non asari, let alone another species without thought melding abilities. The dynamics are just too complex to predict..."__

"__You left me there on the floor."__

"__I'm sorry about that... I..." Liara paused as she recalled the encounter of which he spoke and which she had spent the past month attempting to forget. "At the time I thought it would be better if you woke up on your own."__

__There was a long pause, and she shifted in her chair uncomfortably under his intense gaze. __

"__I want to try it again," the turian stated calmly.__

"__Why? And NO... Absolutely not. " Liara said, fumbling over herself as she stood from her desk, waving a hand in front of her adamantly.__

"__What if I give you something in return? We can exchange information," Garrus offered, his expression still an unreadable mask. The tone of in his voice made her delay the lengthy lecture she was prepared to give him. __

"__There isn't anything you could possibly-"__

"__I hear you're attempting to become an information broker," he interrupted casually. __

__She hadn't made anything official yet, and to be honest, her office still retained the fresh furniture smell it had the first day she moved in. "Yes that is what I'm hoping to make of this..." She gestured at the mess on her desk.__

"__Well, you might be surprised to know this, but I have quite a few connections... on Palaven, on the Citadel, and out in the terminus... Omega specifically."__

"__I have contacts," she replied indignantly, but he looked unconvinced. It was true, she was desperate to expand her network. It was a task that had turned out to be more difficult than expected. __

"__I could offer you many more contacts - people you can trust." __

__She knew she should say no; that she should turn him away... but he was her friend. They had been through so much together, and weren't they both struggling to find their way now that Shepard was gone? __

__Exposing him to the closely guarded imprints of Shepard's psyche that Liara had kept as her own reminder of the woman she had loved and admired, had been a mistake. That much was clear. Garrus' subconscious was either unable or unwilling to understand that what it was experiencing was just a self created interpretation of an echo. __

__Liara had tried hard to make as little contact with his mind as possible, but it hadn't been enough. She had not been prepared for the tide of emotion that rushed from the turian's mind. The raw intensity of it was something she had never experienced before, and it took her off guard. The initial feelings of crippling sorrow and regret were quickly replaced by a passion that was intoxicating. To be loved and desired like that was something she had never known or imagined, even while on the most lonely dig sites. When he had reached out and touched her, she had been unable to prevent her body's instinctual response. __

__But there had never been anything between her and Garrus. None of the things she was experiencing were for her. There was no way she wanted her first intimate experience to be with someone who was pretending she were someone else, and so she had severed their connection - perhaps a little too abruptly. __

__Just like a red sand junkie, he was back for more. __

__Despite all this, Liara's practical side couldn't help but consider his proposal, even if it somehow felt more like prostitution than an exchange of information. She considered for a moment telling Garrus that Cerberus was going to try to bring Shepard back – that all he needed to do was wait. But she would be making false promises. Who knew what Cerberus was really doing, or if they had made any progress? __

__Would treating his pain and regret with moments of false happiness really do him any good in the long run? If Shepard did come back... Liara couldn't fathom how they would explain any of this. __

__Liara hadn't realized she'd been nodding until she noticed Garrus' proximity. He seemed nervous, or was it anticipation? She couldn't be sure when it came to turians. __

"__Not here," she ordered as she backed away from him, and turned to her desk. "I can't do any business if you're passed out on the floor," she explained as she tidied her desk up and grabbed her jacket. __

__The turian remained silent as he followed her out of the room.__

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`


	17. Chapter 17

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Chapter 17

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

There was a cool breeze in the Illium air, and it danced with the ends of Kaidan's hair as he stood over the body of the slain asari. She had been left where she had fallen, propped up against the side of one of hotel Azure's many balconies. Just hours earlier, Tela Viser had been a spectre - had proved herself in trials and impossible situation as a capable soldier, investigator, keeper of peace - and entrusted by the representatives of trillions with galactic safety and stability.

How many years had she lived? One hundred, two hundred... three hundred years? Now she was just a cold, decaying shell.

What a waste.

A soft rumble of rainless thunder echoed off in the distance, and Kaidan massaged two fingers against his temple in thought as his eyes mapped the trail of blue blood down the balcony wall and to the ruptures in the victim's soiled armour. He had never been an investigator by nature - and somehow his gaze couldn't seem to escape the deceivingly peaceful, stiff expression on her blue face. Kaidan felt his mood darken as he looked into those large, vacant eyes and imagined the last face the asari saw was that of his former Commander.

From behind him, brief snippets of conversation could be heard between his new companion and the bewildered waitress he was questioning.

Osaro was a turian, and a twelve year veteran Spectre - well respected, dedicated, and as it turned out, the only one willing to accept assignment as Kaidan's mentor and observer. He had a very pale complexion that was somewhat washed out by his off white armour, which was chipped and scraped in a few places, the dark material beneath telling silent stories of close calls and near misses. Six hours in transit from the Citadel with the turian and Kaidan still felt he hardly knew a thing about him. Eventually Osaro had asked the question Kaidan had been struggling with since they had left the station. Was he really ready to be a spectre? Kaidan had assured him he was, though whether or not the turian believed him, he wasn't sure. The truth was much more believable - that the Alliance commander had doubts about his own abilities, and the wide sweeping responsibility the title of Spectre entailed seemed overwhelming. He wondered briefly if Shepard had felt the same way when she had become a Spectre. Probably not... and if she had, she'd hid it well.

However he felt about it, Kaidan knew his actions in the next week would decide his future, be it as a spectre working for the council, or as simply an officer in the Alliance.

He doubted any other spectre prospect had been assigned such a trying and emotionally difficult first mission -to have to arrest his former commander... friend... lover. A woman he thought he knew, but who now seemed more like a familiar stranger one passed on the street. In the two years that had passed, she had somehow become capable of killing whoever stood in her way, be it a fellow spectre or three hundred thousand innocent batarians.

What had started off as an Alliance fact finding mission had become a desperate search for a high profile mass murderer.

The voice of the woman behind him wavered. If Osaro was becoming impatient with his witness, he was hiding it well. He had insisted on being the one to interview the woman, despite Kaidan's insistence that she would probably be more comfortable speaking to a fellow human. From the sounds of things, it was becoming clear her recollection of events was vague at best.

No, she didn't know why they were fighting. No, she had not heard any parts of their conversation that suggested where they were heading next.

Yes, she had seen Commander Shepard.

"The asari... the one who died. She had a gun to my head..." the traumatized woman explained, ringing her hands together, her eyed darting around nervously. "Shepard told her a hostage wouldn't be enough to stop her from shooting. I thought I was going to die, and then something knocked the asari away. I don't... I don't really know what happened after that... I just ran..."

Her words were gradually drowned out by the deep vibrations from the low velocity thrusters on a heavy transport as it passed overhead, casting its long shadow across the crime scene. When it had finally passed, Kaidan was left looking out at the Nos Astra skyline, treed with graceful towers and snowed with lights.

Not for the first time, Kaidan couldn't help but think about how nothing seemed to be going as he had imagined.

Osaro finished his interview, and with a leisurely gait well suited to his tall stature, made his way to Kaidan's side. His eyes were glued to his wrist and his open omni tool.

"The woman's account offers no new information," the turian glanced up at his apprentice, his disappointment evident in his deep, flanging voice. "Find anything at the spaceport?" The question felt like procedure, since Kaidan suspected Osaro already knew the answer.

"The Normandy left about five hours ago - Foreman said they hadn't quite completed the repairs."

Osaro's mandibles flared. "I find it surprising Shepard stayed as long as she did." His eyes fixed on the slow activities of the cleanup crews removing the debris left by the crashed vehicles. "A normal person who kills a spectre does not stick around to see their face on the news... though I suppose normal people do not tend to kill spectres." The turian's mandibles twitched again in thought, his eyes narrowing as he continued to consider some far off unknown point in the distance. "I will admit that the path of destruction stretching between here and Dracon Trade Center is impressive, if not disturbing. I'm amazed there were no causalities from the high speed chase. " Osaro shook his head and sighed, "well, there's really no point tracking the ship's signature through the relays. Too much time has passed," he said with utter finality.

Kaidan looked up at the side of the hotel where staff were attempting to scrub off the dark char marks left from the high powered gunfire.

"Shepard's companions..." Osaro continued, eyes returning to his omni tool, "Liara T'Soni, as well as a scarred male turian with Palaven highland markings and a heavily tattooed, scarred male human -"

"The man is probably Zaeed Masani," Kaidan interrupted.

"The mercenary?" Osaro clarified, and Kaidan nodded.

"We were tipped off that Cerberus had paid him to join Shepard's team."

The turian's eyes narrowed in annoyance. Kaidan knew it bothered the spectre to no end that the Alliance had a lot more information regarding the Normandy and her crew than was being shared with the Council's intelligence team. Each little bit of information Kaidan doled out seem to push the turian closer to some sort of unpleasant outburst. Kaidan wasn't looking forward to that.

"And the turian?" Osaro grunted.

"No doubt Garrus Vakarian," Kaidan explained, trying not to sound bitter, "Shepard's new... lieutenant and right hand man."

"Vakarian," Osaro let the name roll off his tongue, but didn't elaborate on what he was thinking.

"We know Shepard was working with Viser up until their exit from the trade center."

"It does seem that way," the turian agreed reluctantly.

"The witness reports are mixed about who crashed first," Kaidan motioned in the direction of the ditched vehicles. "But we know that Shepard was seen in pursuit of Viser before their standoff." He waved an arm at one of the salarian bodies being removed nearby. "And what about all these dead mercs? What outfit are they with? I don't recognize their colours."

Osaro gave his human protégé an exasperated look before finally letting him in on the big mystery. "Agents of the Shadow Broker would be my guess."

Kaidan's mind began to churn. The Shadow Broker... he knew that name. He had always thought of the Shadow Broker as just some volus, or perhaps a salarian, sitting alone in a dark basement, surrounded by vid screens. He never imagined that a dealer of information and secrets would have an entire army of troopers at their disposal.

"So if information is the motive in all of this, then we need to find the Shadow Broker."

"Forget about the Shadow Broker," Osaro bemoaned, "no one knows who or where he is."

"Shepard seems to have figured it out and now she's gone after him," Kaidan replied, a little belligerently.

"Gone after him? ...or gone to collect her payment?" Osaro shot back and Kaidan was already shaking his head. "It doesn't matter," the turian continued, "the trail is cold. We've got about a dozen witnesses identifying Shepard as Viser's killer," he glanced down at the cold, stiff asari. "Shepard has murdered an agent of the Council. The only thing we can do now is figure out where she'll go next and arrest her. Her excuses are not our concern - it will be the Council and the Alliance that will be the judges her actions."

"Shepard has never have killed anyone without a very good reason."

Osaro gave the human a withering look before turning away and heading toward their vehicle. Kaidan followed his lead, quickening his steps to keep up. "Saren probably believed he had good reason as well," the turian remarked casually as they reached their skycar.

His reaction was instinctual. Grabbing the turian's arm, Kaidan was intent on spinning him around so that he could say his next words to the spectre's face. But Osaro had already predicted the human's impulsive response and they landed with a heavy thud on the ground, Osaro on top.

It occurred to Kaidan that he had never been quite so close to a turian's face before. Osaro was older than Garrus and the interlocking plates on his face and fused together in some spots and lacked the same hard definition of Kaidan's former crewmate. They had an almost polished appearance in places. A long strip of burgundy ran in an arc across his brow, long strips of tattooed colour stretching like tendrils backward along each long point on the turian's head. A small strip on the ends and back of his mandibles made him look almost like he wore a medieval helmet. The turian's eyes were a fiery shade of orange, watching him the way a hawk catches sight of its prey and never blinks. If there was one thing Kaidan had learned, it was to never flinch from a turian stare down. It was considered a display of submission, and between males it was a definite sign of weakness.

"Shepard is nothing like Saren," Kaidan finally spat out past the turian elbow that was pressing against his neck.

"Isn't she?" Osaro asked calmly, but there was a very sinister undertone in his voice that made Kaidan very apprehensive. After a few tense moments, Osaro released his grip and stood, offering a hand to the prone human. Kaidan hesitated, giving the looming figure a doubtful look before finally accepting help off the ground.

"You seem so certain," the turian continued, checking himself before turning to the skycar. "Tell me Commander Alenko, did Shepard also wipe an entire system out of existence, along with over three hundred thousand civilians, for good reason?"

Kaidan released a frustrated sigh. "I don't know," he admitted and it was the truth. He wanted to believe he knew Shepard, understood her... but Cerberus? The destruction in Bahak? Now this dead spectre...

"I expected the Alliance to have a higher standard for protocol than what just happened," Osaro reprimanded as he glanced around. "Luckily no one was present to witness that misstep in professionalism."

"I apologize," Kaidan said through clenched teeth, saying the words with as much conviction as he could manage. The turian nodded.

"Perhaps you aren't able to see the situation clearly because of your previous association with the former Commander. But you do realize that she is the most dangerous and wanted person in the galaxy? And that while the council treats all ex-spectres as dangerous, we both know this is a rather special case. Not only is Shepard an intelligent and skilled combatant, but her ability to inspire loyalty gives her the benefit of a highly skilled, well trained posse, willing to throw themselves in the line of fire to protect her. Taking her down will be no easy task and I will take no risks."

"The Alliance believes she will surrender herself" Kaidan explained, a little more softly than he had intended, making him wonder if he even believed his own words.

"Are you sure the Alliance isn't trying to convince themselves of that?" the turian countered.

"Shepard still has allies - people who trust her judgement, despite the evidence."

"Who are these allies? Urdnot Wrex, self proclaimed leader of the krogan? Councillor Anderson, the uninspired human councillor who spends most of his time doing damage control for humanity? Or maybe Liara T'Soni, washed up archaeologist turned information broker? All former crewmates." The turian's eyes narrowed, "even you... right now, trying to give Shepard the benefit of the doubt, prove just how powerful she truly is."

Osaro leaned forward, bracing a hand on the side of the transport, and Kaidan was surprised to see his expression soften. "Listen to me carefully," the turian continued, "despite what you may think, I hold Commander Shepard in very high regard. She is... or was... considered one of our most celebrated agents. In fact I was present at her funeral. I would enjoy nothing more than to share drinks with her and spend an evening exchanging war stories. But that isn't our mission... our mission is to bring her before the council, willingly or not. Whatever our emotional inclination is, it does not matter. When we find her, if she does not cooperate or is in any way hostile, I am authorized to kill her."

Kaidan could only stare back at the turian in mute astonishment. The idea that Shepard could for some reason not be apprehended alive... and that she might meet the same end as the asari, hadn't occurred to the biotic. He felt his mouth go dry, and when he went to speak there were no words waiting to be heard.

"We have our mission, and we will not compromise," the turian continued as he opened the transport door. "Commander Alenko, will I be able to count on you if things... escalate?"

His jaw tightened, and Kaidan looked down at his reflection in the polished window of their vehicle as the spectre waited for his answer.

"I don't make a habit of listening to rumours, Commander, but I need to know we're on the same team. So I'll ask you again, can I trust you?"

Though Kaidan wasn't sure what rumours the turian was referring to, he felt his head nodding. "Yes."

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__"You've come alone. That's awfully confident of you."__

__Aria. __

__Her sharp eyes regarded him with deceiving indifference, her graceful hands resting on the slick fabric that clung to her thighs like a second skin. The glass surrounding the asari's throne in the depths of Afterlife was just thick enough to dull the constant drone of music from the club, while still allowing a heavy thud of bass to rumbled through the floor. From a dark corner behind him, Garrus could hear the lips on one of Aria's batarian body guards pull back over his teeth in a sticky smile. No doubt he smelled blood.__

__"If you'd wanted to kill me, Aria, you would have done it by now."__

__Aria smirked in approval of his answer and with a wave of her hand, sent her personal guard reluctantly retreating down the stairs. __

__"So I am finally afforded the privilege of meeting the infamous Archangel," she announced with a mocking flourish. "Of course that certainly isn't your real name. What should I call you?"__

__"The same."__

__"I see." She motioned towards the empty couch across from her, and Garrus accepted her invitation without, he hoped, belying the knot of dread he was feeling in his stomach. Just as soon as he was settled she stood, clasping her hands behind her back as she turned and looked out over the crowded club. "The helmet. Take it off."__

__Denying her request would have been a mistake. He shot a cautious glance at the stairs, before unlatching his helmet and setting it down beside him. Aria didn't bother to look at him."A lot of nameless people end up on Omega," she ruminated aloud. "Some manage to stay out of my way... while others... end up causing me a lot of trouble. Will you be causing me trouble, Archangel?"__

__"I don't see any reason why we can't co-exist."__

__Aria hummed to herself, thoughtfully, before turning to face him. __

__"You look familiar to me." She paused, and a salarian appeared, eyes nervously glued to the floor as he presented them both with drinks before scurrying off. Garrus took the offered refreshment and nodded as Aria gave her own glass a slight raise. After watching her take a sip and taking one of his own, Garrus was compelled to speak.__

__"How do you know you're not being poisoned?" __

__"What?" Aria asked, obviously taken aback. Garrus nodded at her drink and the asari sneered. "The benefits of being not just feared, but loved," she explained impatiently, as though speaking to a small child. "Besides, I'm not stupid. Omega may look like it's stuck in some sort of technological Dark Age, but I assure you, it is not. I haven't been ruling this rock for the past several hundred years out of sheer luck."__

__"Fair enough."__

__The asari took another slow, deliberate swallow of her drink, her reflective eyes watching him over the rim of her glass.__

__"I've seen you and your squad in action," Aria explained as she turned her back on him and looked out over the writhing bodies on the dance floor. "Who are you? Ex-military? Ex-C-Sec? If you had been older I would have guessed I had another retired Spectre stirring things up." __

"__You get retired spectres here a lot?" Best answer to a question is another question, his C-Sec captain used to say.__

__Aria let out a rueful laugh. "They seem to think Omega is some sort of noble last stand. A good place to die, fighting corruption and injustice. I give them credit for not dying as old shadows of glory, warm and cozy in their beds... but eventually they get in my way and they can be... stubborn when it's time to die." She glanced over her shoulder at the seated turian. "You're not here to make a grand exit, are you?"__

__"I have no immediate plans," Garrus answered, a little more smartly than he had meant to. Aria's eyes narrowed into slits as she spun around to face him. Scowling, she quickly closed the distance between them, planting one knee snug against his leg. Garrus had to sit all the way back on the couch as she leaned over him, bringing her face close enough to his that he could feel the substance of her words, coated with the sweet smell of the alcohol they had consumed.__

__"Let's be perfectly clear... Archangel..." She bit out his name as her hand came up and touched the side of his face. Garrus felt his legs stiffen with the almost overwhelming desire to make a quick exit, but he didn't dare. Aria could tear him in half with her biotics, or have her guards fill his body with bullets. Besides, he needed something from this woman. No, he was just going to have to keep his cool and hope he got what he wanted... or at least got to walk out in one piece - though both possibilities were beginning to seem unlikely. __

__"Omega is mine," Aria hissed, "and I should kill you for cutting into my profits." Her eyes dropped down between them. They both watched as her other hand came to rest on his thigh. "But your presence seems to be giving the populace... hope." Mandibles stuck firmly against his face, Garrus couldn't help but tilt his head back as far as he could from the threatening asari. "Omega is about balance," she continued,"luckily for you, your presence seems to somehow be helping to keep that balance."__

__Garrus had to suppress his sigh of relief. "And here I though the local merc groups just hadn't managed to pool enough money together to lynch me," he retorted, instantly regretting having made such an audacious comment right in Aria's face. __

__"I am not a puppet to be bought!" she spat, before pushing herself away from him and returning to her spot on the couch. "If you think ruling Omega is entirely about profit, then you are a fool." __

__Garrus decided he really needed to stop provoking this woman. Or maybe that was why he was still alive. He wasn't entirely sure.__

__"Tell me Archangel. Why are you really here?" __

__"I am here to ask Omega's queen for her blessing," Garrus answered, finishing the last swallow of his drink.__

__"Blessing!" Aria let out an incredulous laugh, as though it were the most absurd thing she had ever heard. "Aren't you just the most charming vigilante I've ever met. I suppose you're suggesting some sort of truce, or even... an alliance?"__

__Garrus nodded cautiously. __

"__You've been operating on Omega for several months now. Obviously you've been smart enough not to cross me. Why come to me now?" Her tone suggested she had shifted gears to all business. __

__Aria was far from stupid, and although Garrus had been lucky so far, he knew he needed to tread carefully from this point on. If he was going to get what he needed, he was going to have to make her think she was coming out on top. __

__"I need access to Omega's network," he finally admitted.__

__Aria blinked at him."You have to be joking. Do you have any idea what you're asking? I should kill you for even bringing this up."__

__"I'm only interested in the surveillance. No critical systems or sensitive information" he tried to explain, but the asari was already looking agitated. __

__"Why would I do this? What could I possibly get out of this?"__

__"Surely you have the need for a third party group that can handle delicate situations that you may need to keep your hands clean of."__

__"I need nothing," she dismissed.__

__"Then what do you want?" __

__Aria regarded him for a long moment. Garrus could feel her eyes cataloguing him, studying the build of his armour, the tattoos on his face, the forced casualness of his posture. They were all her spies, and he feared she could read him like an unlocked datapad. __

"__I want to be able to call on you," she finally said.__

"__My team can-"__

"__I don't care about your team," she interrupted forcefully, leaning forward with a terrible scowl and pointing a long gloved finger at him. "You think you operate on Omega because you're clever? Because you think you can move and function without my knowledge? Wrong... WRONG! You carry out your flavour of frontier justice because I permit it. You live and breathe because I allow it. And you will pay tribute to me because I demand it."__

__She sat back again, her rage evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. "When I call, I expect Archangel to come."__

__Garrus didn't like the sounds of that, but he was running out of options. He needed access to that network, and if that meant having a few strings attached to Aria, then so be it. __

__"I have no intention of killing innocents or civilians."__

__"Who said I required your skills as an assassin? Besides, there are only a handful of truly innocent people on this rock." Aria finished her drink and immediately the salarian returned and removed their glasses. "I will give you limited access to tertiary systems, general surveillance only. But it will expire every eighth cycle. When it does, you'll have to come see me if you want it reinstated. It will be our time to... catch up. You can talk to Preitor Gavorn, he'll work things out with you."__

__Garrus gave her a slow nod as he slipped his helmet back on and stood.__

__"A bit of advice," Aria continued as her body guards returned, signalling the end of their meeting."Eventually your enemies will find you, and when they do, Omega will not care." __

__The guards exchanged knowing smirks as Garrus brushed past them.__

__"Oh and Archangel," the turian paused and turned to see the charming smile the asari wore, "if I feel you are abusing these... privileges I have afforded you, or if you fail to meet with me, I won't hesitate to break your wings and string you up for the beasts."__

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

When the smoke finally cleared, it was Shepard that suggested Feron be seen by Dr. Chakwas. Liara had immediately dismissed the idea, and although it was clear she wasn't keen on the idea of him being out of her sight, Shepard's logic had been infallible as usual, and Liara had relented.

Acting as Feron's guide, Garrus had left Shepard and Liara onboard the base while he delivered the drell to the good doctor. As they stepped off the Normandy's elevator, he grimaced at the throbbing in his head. The pain was getting worse, and he was looking forward to sitting down. He and Feron made quite the pair, moving like a couple of old men, all stiff muscles and sore joints - luckily it was mid shift and no one was around to see him looking so beat. The drell at least had the excuse of two years of who knew what kind of torture at the hands of the Shadow Broker - Garrus's only excuse was that he'd had a piece of office furniture tossed at his head.

As he had often done before, he imagined the epitaph that would have been written in his family's book.

__~Garrus, son of Drusus. Serving under Shepard, fought and died, slain by a desk.__

The very idea of it should have been worth a good laugh, except that his head was pounding so badly it was distracting him from any notion of humour.

Opening the door to the medbay, Garrus gestured for Feron to enter. He could hear Chakwas rise from her chair and immediately give her new patient a characteristically warm greeting.

"Feron, I'm Dr. Chakwas. Have a seat... Don't worry, you won't be the first drell I've ever seen..."

Garrus turned, having decided that the only cure for his headache would be a good dose of medigel and maybe a shower - but he wasn't fast enough.

"Oh and Garrus," the doctor's voice froze him mid stride. "I'll need to see you too... Shepard mentioned you had a rather nasty encounter with a desk."

Mortified, Garrus looked over his shoulder, but the doctor's expression lacked any humour or sarcasm. He raised an eyebrow, and shrugged, the small actions enough to make him wince.

"That's what I thought," she turned back to the drell, though still addressing the turian. "You might as well wait in the mess hall and I'll see you after I'm finished with Feron."

The turian sighed in defeat, and giving her an unenthusiastic nod, he stepped out of the med bay and eased himself into the closest mess hall chair. He never enjoyed doctor's visits, but his head was pounding after all... still, he was certain he could be put to better use elsewhere...

anywhere...

He found her bent over the galaxy map in the empty CIC, the rest of the crew having already made their way down to the cargo hold for the celebrations. Since no one was around to catch him doing it, he let his eyes roam over her freely, taking in the very human curves of her body.

"Everyone's awaiting your arrival, Shepard." His voice cut through the soft hum of the bridge, and she nodded, but didn't turn around. Stepping up onto the raised platform, he looked over her shoulder and watched her studying the massive holographic map. Casually, he brushed his hips up against her rear, and her hands paused over the map. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he let his out stretched talons run down her arms before planted his face into her soft hair. She let out a sigh, the kind that made his toes curl with anticipation.

"Do you know what you do to me when you make that sound?" he rasped in her ear.

"What sound?" she asked distractedly, pretending to focus on her work and not his proximity. He slipped a hand around and under the edge of her shirt, dragging a bare talon along the smooth skin of her belly. She sighed again.

"That sound."

Shepard glanced at him over her shoulder, and he saw invitation in her eyes. His other hand had already found the fasteners on her uniform and had begun to undo them with the sort of precision he prided himself in. She shivered.

"Someone could find us-" she whispered, but her protest sounded half-hearted, and he considered for a moment reminding her that everyone was in the cargo bay...

"Let them find us," he hissed as his fingers found the soft curve of her breast and the raised nipples beneath her partially opened top. The surge of power he felt as her body leaned into his touch was intoxicating.

"Dammit Garrus," she gasped as he dragged his teeth over her clothed shoulder and pressed his pelvis against her rear. "Don't you dare..." It sounded more like a request than a threat.

He withdrew one of his hands and teasingly ran it along the edge of her pants. "What?" he asked, enjoying the tiny bumps her hide formed as it reacted to the cool air and his warm touch. A long blue tongue grazed the edge of her earlobe, and as she hummed in approval he let his hand slip down past her stomach. It was as though her entire body vibrated with the anticipation of his touch, the way her hands gripped the console in front of her for support, how she pressed herself against him. Head tilting back in silent consent, she bit her lip as one talon slipped between her legs and tested the truthfulness of her desperate breaths.

"Are you asking me to stop?" he inquired innocently, letting his clawed finger gently slip along her slick centre again, earning him a twitch from her entire body.

"If you stop I will demote you down to ensign," she breathed and he smiled. Hidden within her threat of discipline were the words that revealed her utter surrender to him.

"Aye, Commander," he answered, his voice taking on the same inflection he used on the battle field. Pulling back his hands, he frantically tugged at the latches on his hips until he was able to slide himself out of the confines of his armour. He stepped between her legs - spreading them and forcing her onto her toes. With both hands he shimmied down her pants and tentatively pressed his hardness against her. Teasing was not what she wanted, so in one, swift, decisive thrust, buried himself inside of her.

It was carnal bliss as she swore and arched against him. The talons of his left hand were pressing into the corner of her hip, the other distractedly toying with the soft flesh of her breast as he curled himself over her and pushed into her. His teeth were putting holes in her uniform as he nipped and bit instinctually, his lips itching to feel bare skin.

"That all you got, officer?" she jabbed, her voice disjointed between thrusts. He responded with a more forceful and determinate pace, and she voiced her approval loudly. He could feel himself already swelling inside of her, and he let out a long groan against her back, her body reacting with a gasp wrenching squeeze. It was almost too much for him and he reached a hand down her front, passing between them to feel the girth of his thrusts before searching out her sensitive spot, which he had come to know so well.

There was no way for him to be prepared for the way she pressed against him, the delicious rub from the angle of her deceivingly soft hips as her body went stiff, insides clamping down hard as she let out a choked scream. He snarled, increasing the tempo of his thrusts with as much urgency as he could muster without faltering. Face pinched in concentration, his hands reached past her and grabbed the console, bending her over farther as he gave a few more forceful movements, growling as he came hard. He thought he could hear her moaning his name, but it was drowned out by his own howl, the movement of his hips turning erratic as he pulsed within her, finding release. Exhausted, he was still pressed against her as he tried to subdue the phantom jerks of his hips, but her muscles twitched around him and he moaned in surprise as she ripped another climax from him.

In the wake of their ecstasy, all he could feel was a primal slickness and a throbbing of heart beats where they were joined. He pressed his face against her back, his legs quivering and breath slowing as their urgency subsided -

"Garrus?"

"Run away with me Shepard... just you and me..." he whispered against her, "let's just disappear."

"Garrus?"

Her voice sounded different... concerned.

"Garrus, are you alright?"

His eyes snapped opened, and he suddenly realized that he was still sitting in the mess hall, waiting to see Chakwas. Embarrassed, he immediately looked down and thanked the spirits his pants were still on, though they were feeling terribly confining and uncomfortable.

"Garrus..." her voice wasn't laced with lust, but concern as she leaned over him, running a gloved hand gently over the upper edge of his brow. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath she misread as she examined his head wound. "You sound awful."

Unfortunately Shepard wasn't half naked, and he hadn't just had her bent over the galaxy map. He'd put himself in quite the state, and he couldn't help but let his cheek brush up against the curved armour that covered her breasts as she leaned over him.

"Your head looks sore...How is it?"

"Not bad," he lied, distracted by the feel of her touch. It was enough to keep the images in his head in vivid focus.

"You seemed kind of out of it when I came in," she was giving him a suspicious look, "you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah... yeah, I'm alright." __Get a hold of yourself, Vakarian... Thane naked in the shower, Miranda sitting on the toilet, husks torn in half with biotics... __He felt the erotic fog in his head clear a little... __That was better. __He needed to redirect her attention. "So what's going on over on the base? Are there problems?"

"Not exactly," she shrugged, and his eyes opened as the feeling of her touch disappeared. She was removing the weapons from her back now, laying them out in a neat row on the table. Letting out a long sigh, she slid into the chair next to him, leaning back and stretching her armoured legs out in front of her. He allowed himself a moment to look her over before following the direction of her green eyes, which were passively observing the doctor and drell in the glassed in med bay.

"Liara has complete access to the Broker's entire system and databases," she finally continued, a note of weariness slipping into her voice. "The network of stealth comm. buoys and piggybacked signals is actually quite impressive."

"Well, isn't that good news?" Garrus wondered.

"It's great news," she agreed, her gaze still fixed on the med bay as she peeled the gloves off her pale hands and tossed them onto the mess hall table. "It'll be a hugely useful asset in the future... "

The future.

Garrus had been avoiding even saying the word. It was a subject they had both evaded, knowing that the reality of it was so fragile it felt as though anything above a whisper would shatter it. It was only in dim quarters and with soft voices, often in the heat of passionate moments that they dared even to pretend. Now the word seemed to hang between them like a heavy fog - so thick one could lose themselves in it forever... at least until they stepped off the edge.

Shepard still wasn't looking at him. Her frown seemed to have spread to the rest of her face and had somehow become even more severe. Though her mouth opened to speak, she was stopped by the soft throat clearing sound Liara's was making to announce her presence in the mess hall. Neither of them had noticed the sound of the elevator arriving on deck three.

"Liara. How are things looking on the base?" Shepard ventured, her voice coming across as all business.

"Good. Really good. The previous broker's VI is incredibly helpful, if not a little repetitive in its dialogue..." she placed a thoughtful finger against her chin, "I'll have to have it reprogrammed..." she mutter to herself before continuing, "but the amount of information is staggering... and there is more coming in all the time-"

The med bay doors opened and Feron emerged. The drell looked slightly better than when they'd found him, though he seemed a little disoriented at being suddenly thrust back into civilization. Chakwas was right on his heels, her expression changing as soon as she set eyes on Shepard.

"You Commander, have been avoiding me. You were supposed to see me after you returned from Illium."

"Uh yeah, sorry about that..." Shepard answered a little sheepishly before turning back to the asari. "Liara, we're having a bit of a celebration down in the cargo hold... you're welcome to join us. You too Feron... if you're up for it," Shepard offered as she got up and approached the annoyed doctor.

"I think I'll sit this one out..."Feron mumbled, "but you should go Liara."

"I'll take him back to the ship and then maybe I will join you for a bit," Liara offered and Shepard nodded before Chakwas corralled her into the med bay.

Garrus could have snuck away at that moment, but sitting in and listening to Chakwas chew Shepard out was just too tempting. Unfortunately, he was unable to escape an awkward exchange of glances with Liara before slipping into the relative safety of the med bay.

"-don't think you can fall three stories out of a building and expect me not to hear about it," Chakwas was saying as she helped Shepard slip off her armour.

"What about him?" Shepard nodded at the turian, who had casually leaned himself against the doctor's desk. "He's the one who was knocked out cold while I danced with a three meter tall horned monster."

"Oh yes, that's right," the doctor shot the turian a quick look, "the incident with the desk?"

Garrus shook his head, though he regretted it immediately as the pain returned. "Say whatever you like... I am impervious to your disdain."

Shepard was seated facing him, smirking as she finished disrobing down to the elasticized bra she only wore on missions. Under one of the straps he could still imagine where there would be the faint reminder of their first union, and farther down a newer, but already partially healed semi circle of red. He suppressed the growl that tried to crawl up his throat. It was sort of twisted, but seeing those marks always did that to him, and he had to press his lips together to remain quiet. She must have caught him doing it, because her eyebrows began to wiggle, combined with her lopsided smile, her look was hilariously suggestive.

It was all a clever distraction of course. To take his mind off the injuries the doctor was examining, or the concern she had originally expressed when she had found him in the midst of lusty daydreams in the mess hall.

Just as he cocked his head to the side in question, her focus shifted, her smile disappearing as she struggled to mask a wince. The pressure from the doctor fingers against her back was causing obvious discomfort. Only partially visible from where he was standing, he suddenly noticed the edges of dark shadows on her back and realized they were bruises. Chakwas moved her hands again and Shepard hissed.

"You're beginning to look awfully serious over there Officer Vakarian," the doctor remarked calmly as she continued to examine their commander's injuries.

Garrus shifted his weight, and didn't answer, trying his best not to stomp over to take a better look at the damage for himself. It was part of their jobs, and it would most definitely happen again... but he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to get used to it.

"It's really not as bad as it looks," Shepard tried to assure them both, her eyebrows knit together in an attempt to control her pain response.

"Well that's a lie," Chakwas announced as she stepped around the bed. "You can thank your armour and Cerberus for the fact that you've been walking and fighting since that fall. Your spine is... or was fractured in four places... Commander, you should have seen me immediately," the doctor sighed as she went to one of the medicine cabinets. As she began rummaging around, she continued to speak with a tone she often used with certain members of the crew, that of a concerned mother. "There isn't really a lot I can do. The vertebrate are being held in place by your ribcage. I've treated the fractures and I'm giving you something for the bruising, which should begin to fade in the next twenty minutes or so... but your back will be stiff for about a day."

Shepard nodded and as he watched Chakwas execute her well honed skills as a doctor, it occurred to him that the older woman was really the closest thing the commander had to a mother – and was really the only other person that took care of her and looked after her, other than him. Though what kind of job he was doing was questionable.

__*Commander*__

"Go ahead Tali" Shepard responded into her comm.

__*Everyone is assembled in the cargo bay... Though I'm not sure how much longer I can keep them out of the food."__

"Ok I'm on my way."

Shepard was already collecting the pieces of her armour, when Garrus realized the doctor's eyes had fallen on him. "Don't think I've forgotten about you`," Chakwas smiled and the turian sighed. "We'll meet you down there Commander, I'm sure we'll only be a few minutes."

"Ok," she answered as she hopped off the bed. "Don't be too hard on him Doctor. He has to put up with me after all."

Garrus closed his eyes as she passed, enjoying the familiar sent of her drift past his nose. When he opened his eyes he noticed Chakwas had lowered the bed she was standing beside, and gave it a little pat. With a mildly annoyed huff, he went to her and obediently sat himself down.

"Oh Garrus, stop putting on such a show," she gave him a smile and he relaxed a little. "You turians are so uptight under a stethoscope."

"Under a what?"

Chakwas just smiled.

"How's that turian brain of yours feeling?" she asked, her warm hands gently tilting his head as she examined the source of the blue blood caked in the crease between his brow plate and fringe.

"Sore," he reluctantly admitted.

"I bet it is," she murmured as she gently wiped away the dried blood. "You have a mild concussion, but that's easily fixed. Just no alcohol for the next half hour or so." She stepped around him, "now let's take a look under that bandage."

He couldn't help the wide-eyed look he gave her. "You think it's ready to come off?" he asked, not able to hide the nervous rise in his voice. It had taken him a while to get used to the stiff bandage, then over the past few weeks he had all but forgotten about it. Now he couldn't be sure if he was more excited to be rid of it, or anxious about seeing what was underneath it. Chakwas could obviously sense both in his voice.

"Let's not get too excited. I'm going to need you to remove your chest plate and collar guard." He obliged, piling the armour on the floor next to the bed. "Now just hold still..." she cooed and he heard her reach for some tool or instrument he couldn't quite recognize out of the corner of his eye. There was a slight tug and a warm sensation before a rush of cool air tickled the skin of his face. His entire body had gone tense, and he felt anxiety rise within him at her growing silence. The sudden feeling of warm fingers on the side of his face made him start, the contact of smooth skin on smooth skin completely foreign to him. It was more than a little unsettling.

"Good... good... you have excellent nerve sensitivity," Chakwas observed out loud as she raised her medical omni tool. "We can treat some of the scarring, but there are large parts of your cheek plate and mandible that no longer have any plate definition and are exposed down to bare skin. Those areas will need time to adjust but should thicken over time. Just don't scrub too hard in the shower or take any more missiles to the face."

"So... how bad does it look?" he asked with dread, and she handed him a datapad, flicking on the imbedded camera. Cautiously, he raised the datapad to his face and stared back at his reflection. He hoped Shepard still had a thing for scars...

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__A long bead of condensation ran down the tall glass Liara gently twirled between her fingers as she admired the modest view of Nos Astra's towers from her apartment. Amid Illium's setting sun, their lights twinkled almost in sync with the soft music that was making its way down from her bedroom. The xillarian wine she had splurged on to celebrate the purchase of her new place was instead being used to toast the one year anniversary of the Normandy's end. The tall dark bottle sat opened on the table next to her.__

__The news that day had been peppered by reports of various memorials for the demise of the Alliance ship, which was really only noteworthy to the galactic community because it marked the loss of humanity's champion and her pivotal role in the battle of the Citadel. And like so many evenings before Liara wondered where Shepard was now, and if she had made the right choice in handing her body over to terrorists. Had Cerberus succeeded in bringing her back to life? Had she been interred in some unmarked grave? Was she frozen solid and part of a collection of galactic oddities and knickknacks in the fortress of some wealthy space recluse?__

__As for the rest of the survivors, she wondered how they were getting on. She wondered if Garrus had found any peace. There had been complete silence between them since their last encounter, which had gone very much the same way as the first, except that he hadn't passed out afterwards. He had been embarrassed by the exchange, and had left shortly after. She often thought of that afternoon, and wondered if things could have gone differently. Had the look of disgust on his face been directed at her, himself, or what they had been doing?__

__She hadn't heard from him since. __

__In the meantime, she had used the resources he had given her to claw her way up to the top of the Nos Astra information market, and the opulence that surrounded her reflected that. Though the truth of it was that she would never be able to fill that empty space with enough prothean artifacts or fancy art to fill the void in her life. __

__Even with all the resources Garrus had provided her, she still had no leads on Feron, or any information on what had happened to him. She wasn't giving up, but she was beginning to doubt if she'd find him alive. Though her searches hadn't uncovered the whereabouts of her friend, they had revealed a startling increase in vigilante activity in and around Omega. Hits on major merc organizations operating in the terminus, ships carrying red sand and weapons shipments were being blown to pieces, all of it within a stone's throw of Omega. __

__She hadn't paid the incidents much attention, until one morning, as she had made her way to her office she had overheard the news reporting that Mindoir was holding celebrations in honour of Commander Shepard's birthday. Somehow, Liara had ended up spending most of her morning consumed with thumbing the late commander's dog tags, which Councillor Anderson had sent her weeks earlier. __

__The news had continued on in the back ground, until something made her pause. __

__A batarian slave ship carrying five hundred mixed species slaves had appeared on the edge of Alliance space. Now displaced refugees, they claimed they had been liberated by a small team of mercenaries just outside of Omega. __

__It wasn't something you heard every day.__

__Was it Garrus? It sure seemed like it. Something in honour of Shepard's roots as a slave raid survivor perhaps? At least he was doing something meaningful with himself. Not like her. Maybe they had all been desperate to make some sort of difference now that Shepard was gone. Wrex had gone back to Tuchanka, Tali was trying to make a difference on the flotilla, even Kaidan, who had looked completely devastated last time she had seen him, had been making advancements in the Alliance. __

__All of their efforts could never equal or replace her, of course. It just seemed impossible to have the same momentum, the same resources and support she'd had. __

__She wondered... Did they lay awake at night just as she did? Wondering if tomorrow the reapers would descend upon them? Every year that passed, sleep came easier, and the worry began to wane... but there were still nights... __

__Garrus was the only one of the team she had seen since the memorial service. No one had really spoken about keeping in touch because all the stories revolved around the one person none of them could bare to be reminded of. Maybe in another ten years, if there was no reaper invasion or if they somehow miraculously survived one, they could share stories.__

__There was a soft ding from her front door and Liara glanced at her omni tool. She wasn't expecting any deliveries until tomorrow. "Who is it?" she asked as she brought up the video feed __

__"It's me," came a familiar, low flanging voice over the intercom. Liara froze. Garrus was the last person she expected to see, especially after their last encounter. To say they had left on uncertain terms was an understatement. "Is this a bad time?" the hesitant voice continued. Liara downed the rest of her drink and went to the door.__

__Garrus, dressed casually except for his visor - it was clear he had bulked up significantly since the last time she had seen him. The thin somewhat strung out turian who had walked into her office six months earlier had been replaced by a well toned, battle hardened mercenary commander.__

__"Garrus," she said by way of greeting and gestured for him to enter. "You'll have to forgive the state of my place... I've only been moved in for a week and I wasn't really expecting... company."__

__"I'm sorry, I really should have let you know I was coming," he apologized, but the words sounded hollow.__

__Liara dismissed his words with shake of her head. "Can I get you a drink?"__

__"Um ok, sure," he answered, taking in the partially decorated living space, eventually stopping in front of the large windows where her half filled glass and bottle sat. Balancing another glass and bottle in one arm, Liara pulled a second chair over for him. As he sat, she offered him the glass and uncorked the equivalent of turian rum. "I don't exactly have a very large selection of dextro alcohols here, sorry." It was a lie. She had three bottles of turian liquor and spirits, as well as a bottle of quarian Nar Vabara to compliment her modest collection of human and asari wines and other alcohols. __

__She wouldn't admit it, but since their first exchange on Inta'sai, something had changed for her. Late nights at bars and chic lounges, she had found herself passing by the wide selection of attractive asari, human and even krogan, avoiding the overzealous turians that sent her charming flared mandible smiles her direction. Instead, her eyes sought the quiet drinker, the sombre turians whose eyes seemed distant and brooding. She had even taken a few of them home with her, but it had never been the same as what she had shared with her turian squad mate. Sure, there was desire behind their sullen outer shells, but it was never more than physical... not like what she had felt from Garrus. She wouldn't deny that the memories of their exchange had consumed her on many lonely nights, even if deep down those feelings had never been for her.__

__The turian in question was looking out at the skyline, a thoughtful expression on his face as he sipped at the dark amber liquid in his glass. His eyes gave her a quick glance before returning to the windows. "Quite the view," he remarked, motioning towards the horizon.__

__She nodded as she refilled her glass.__

__"Nos Astra has its charming qualities." The asari frowned at the sea of twinkling lights that made up the cityscape. "Can you believe it's been an entire year?" she offered, but he didn't respond. They sat and drank quietly for a few moments. "So... " she tried again, "what have you been doing lately?"__

__Her question seemed to startle him from some deep thought, and he gave her a distracted shrug, "Oh you know... keeping busy," he answered vaguely. __

__"Taking down drug shipments, freeing slaves?" That seemed to catch his attention, noticing his raised eyebrows. She smiled. "Oh come on Garrus, knowing is my job now. Besides, you're the only vigilante working in that region of the terminus... and I hear you have an entire squad now?"__

__He nodded. __

__"Will your activities continue to include rescuing addicts and other broken women and sending them to me?" __

__Garrus's expression turned a little unsure, almost embarrassed. "I'm sorry about them... I just don't know who else to send them to."__

__Liara sighed. "It's alright Garrus. They are somewhat useful as contacts in my line of work. I just wish you'd give me some notice... I get these spontaneous messages to come down to the spaceport and before I know it some woman, who's usually filthy, beat up and sobbing, starts hugging me." Trying to suppress the annoyance that was leaching into her voice, she downed the remains of her drink, pushed herself out of her chair and headed to her desk. "I had wanted to give you these last time you were here, but well..." she called out from the other room, before returning with a data pad, which she handed to him. __

__"They all wanted to how to contact you," Liara added. He hadn't looked down at the data pad, but just stared back at her intently, the bits of information ticking by on his visor made her nervous for some reason. "I suggested they leave you a message."__

__"Did they make it home?" he asked as his eyes finally scanned the lines of text.__

__"They all contacted me once they reached their desired destination, beyond that I don't know."__

__There was an almost imperceptible twitch of his mandibles before he opened his omni tool and downloaded the messages. "Maybe I'll save these for the trip back."__

__Conversation came easily after that. They discussed the memorial that was being held at Alliance headquarters – how neither of them had been to earth, and although an invitation had been extended to all survivors of the Normandy's crash, it was agreed that it made a mockery of their real mission. They spoke of old times, of near misses and Shepard being Shepard. The alcohol seemed to make it easier to speak her name and remember her, as though she were only away temporarily and would eventually return. Their glasses were emptied and filled until both bottles had only drops in the bottom. __

__Liara was walking half bent over as she laughed, struggling to make it back to her liquor cabinet. She fumbled around as she reached for the mysterious black turian spirit she had bought, mostly because she liked the label, as well as a bottle of some fruit flavoured human liquor. __

__Garrus's head rolled back, his mandibles twitching in amusement as his asari host returned with the bottles and clumsily filled their glasses. __

__"Do you remember when Shepard was telling off that human bureaucrat on the Citadel? She kept coming out of his office then going back in and giving him shit, then coming out and going back in and doing it again." Garrus began to chuckle, "she must have gone in and out of that office six or seven times."__

__Liara smiled and nodded at the memory."She was so quiet at dinner, and then poor Tali asked what was up and it just set her off again! That was the only time I saw her face go red, she was so angry." They were both laughing now, and the asari set her glass down a little too hard, some of the liquid splashing out onto the dark table top.__

__"What is it humans do?" Liara asked as she slid a filled glass across the table to her guest. The turian shook his head, not knowing what she was referring to. "You know, when they are drinking."__

__"Oh... they make a toast," Garrus stated proudly.__

__"Yes! A toast... to Shepard." Liara raised her glass and Garrus joined her. There was a light clink and they each drank quietly for a few moments.__

__Garrus set his glass down and stared out at the twilight."There was something so contagious about Shepard," he said softly, his words starting to run together. "I really felt like I was making a difference when I fought at her side."__

"__She was certainly was an impressive specimen of humanity..."__

"__I miss her," Garrus suddenly blurted, and Liara nodded solemnly, sensing the melancholic shift in their conversation. __

__"I'll never forget when you put krogan grog spice in Kaidan's food ration," the asari suddenly recalled, hoping to change the subject.__

__Garrus' head rolled to the side to look at her, and she was relieved to see a mischievous smile on his face. "It was never proven that was me." __

__Liara laughed, "Come on, everyone knew it was you. I bet you enjoyed listening to Kaidan try to explain to Shepard why he couldn't go on the mission later that day because he couldn't be more than a few feet from the washroom."__

__"First off, I think EVERYONE enjoyed that conversation except for Kaidan – also, there was no way for the perpetrator to know that he would have that sort of reaction. And you're forgetting the fact that Chakwas fixed him up once he finally admitted his problem and he went on the mission with us anyway." Garrus shook his head at the memory, "-Gave me the dirtiest looks the entire time."__

__They laughed at the expense of the absent lieutenant, and a comfortable drunk silence fell between them. After several minutes, Liara couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging her since he had arrived. "Why did you come here, Garrus?" __

__"Oh, that's right," he reached into his suit and pulled out an optical disc. "I wanted to give you this."__

__She took the disc from him and turned it over in her hands. "What's on it?"__

"__Just... something to make up for...what I asked you to do. I am sorry about all that, it should never have happened. None of it should have happened."__

__Liara felt her lips part, her mind stumbling over his words. What did he mean, it never should have happened? Since his arrival, she had assumed another 'encounter' was the natural conclusion of their evening. "Oh... so I guess you don't want to..." Liara ventured, sounding a little stunned.__

__Garrus shook his head. "No... no I can't," he slurred, "not after what happened last time."__

"__But that was an accident," Liara stammered, "we could try again." It was funny in a way - how she had been so against their exchange the first time, then the second time his arguments had so easily swayed her... and now? now she was the addict. __

"__It just isn't right... I just wanted to remember her, thought taking some part of her with me could keep me balanced and grounded. When she was alive she took all my rash intensity and focused it on making good decisions. I didn't want to lose that... " She saw his eyes close, and when he spoke again he sounded far away. "After Intai'sai, things were different. I felt her presence like the moon sees the dawn. It changed me... and it's frightening. She loiters in the shadows... and sometimes I swear, I can hear her breathing." He laughed suddenly, and opened his eyes. "Spirits I sound like I've lost my mind."__

__Liara had never heard Garrus wax poetically, though she hadn't spent any time drinking with him either. __

"__That must be how your mind is processing the information it received in our exchange... but it isn't real."__

"__Neither is the reflection of her you show me... And it mocks me with what could have been. Besides, it feels too much like I'm using you."__

__He was still staring at the ceiling, the rippled base of his neck exposed to the glow from the city. The sleeves of the casual shirt he wore were rolled up, exposing lightly plated bare wrists and hands. His long crest was pressing into the inner collar of his clothed cowl, his eyes shut in some sort of silent concentration. __

__"I love what I've created in my mind, that's all it is. What you give me isn't real."__

__The liquid courage Liara had been consuming compelled her to speak before she had really considered what she was saying. "It's real to me."__

__His eyes opened and he regarded her as carefully as he could in his state of intoxication. "I'm not sure I understand."__

__"You aren't the only one getting something out of our... exchanges..." Liara admitted.__

__"The contacts?" he asked, either confused or generously offering her an out from her confession. To what she was confessing, she couldn't entirely be sure.__

__"You loved her, didn't you?" Liara asked out right, and Garrus stared back at the asari, dumbly. Without thinking, she stood from her chair and approached him. "You watched her from afar, wanted her in secret." She was standing in front of him now, and as he caught on to what she was saying, he began to shake his head. "What stopped you? Her rank? The difference in species? You know, human women and asari look pretty similar under the clothes," the asari whispered as she seated herself in his lap.__

__His thighs were warm, and the heat from his upper body could be felt on her exposed skin. It was enough to make her shiver. Frowning at her with obvious confusion, he fidgeted, too drunk to decide what he should do about the way his former crew mate was pressing against him. __

__"The look in your eyes at the space port... I should have known," Liara continued.__

__"It was never like that," he muttered defensively, eyeing the hand she was running up his arm. __

"__You mean to tell me that if you saw her tomorrow, you wouldn't go to her? Embrace her? Want her?"__

"__She had someone in her life..." he said dejectedly, his words stuttering, as though his drunken mind were working out the possibilities for the first time. "She was... " he looked at their empty glasses and tried again "... a good friend. Nothing more."__

__"How long are you planning on lying to yourself?" the asari whispered, her face coming closer to his. The lids of his eyes were drooping and he seemed to almost be squinting at her. The muscles in his thighs were tense, and his chest heaved with each deep breath he took through his flat nose.__

"__Stop this," he whispered, but she ignored him, dragging a finger along one of his tattooed mandibles.__

"__We could both get what we want, Garrus. You a night with Shepard and I... a night with a lover who I can't get out of my mind. Maybe you need to start living in the present."__

"__You don't really want me as a lover... and I won't disgrace Shepard's memory like that."__

"__Why won't you just let yourself be happy?"__

__Her words seemed to jolt him out of his waking dream, and he wrapped his hands around her waist. Liara took this as approval, but the moment she reached for the buckle of his pants she realized he was looking for an appropriate way to push her away. A disorienting shift of the turian beneath her sent Liara sliding backwards as he leaped up from his chair. Unable to right herself, she stumbled back into the thick glass windows with a thud, the chair on which Garrus had been sitting tipped backward as he struggled to keep his balance. The small table rocked, tipping over one of the bottles, which rolled lazily to the edge and shattered on the floor. There was a long moment where they remained frozen in place, the only sounds their laboured breaths and the music still playing upstairs. __

__Liara watch Garrus raise a hand to his face, trying to rub the drunken fog from his eyes. "I'm sorry Liara. This was all a mistake... I never realized what this was doing to you... this isn't right," he looked around at the mess, righting the chair, his expression pained. "I'm sorry, I should go."__

__"Garrus, wait," she reached out to stop him, but he was already heading to the exit. __

__"I hope what's on that disc makes up for whatever you've had to endure because of all this... and maybe... our paths shouldn't cross for a while." He gave her a fleeting look before retreating to the exit.__

__She didn't know why, but she had to hold back tears as her front door slid closed behind him.__


	18. Chapter 18

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Chapter 18

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

There was a thick, invisible fog of spice and an irresistible smell of grilled meat that had replaced the generally odourless recycled Normandy air. If she closed her eyes she would have sworn she was standing in one of the busy wards on the Citadel, the noise of the mixed species masses and the blending smells of various foods from restaurants and street vendors creating a lively atmosphere in an otherwise bleak area of the station. Shepard was convinced the rumbling she heard wasn't just her own stomach, but a constant gurgling hum emanating from the combined bellies of the crowd.

How long had it been since she had sat down and had a real meal? Had she even had one since she came back?

Crates had been spread around the cargo hold and some of the crew were seated haphazardly around while others stood and conversed in small groups. Originally the meal was to be more formal, but having to leave Illium early had put some limitations on the extravagance of their party. Still, there was an extensive arrangement of covered and steaming food containers, all of which were being managed by Gardner, Chambers and a few of the others - who maybe were a little too intoxicated to be handling hot objects. All of them frantically running around making sure everything was ready. Mordin had volunteered to run the bar, citing that he was the least likely to kill anyone by accidentally pouring shots of rynchol. He was still setting out bottles, meticulously arranging them in a semicircle around the munitions crate he stood behind, no doubt waiting for Shepard's order before serving the ravenous mob. Amid the chaos, Shepard doubted if he had noticed the two bottles of mystery alcohol that were being subtly passed around the mingling crew.

It occurred to her that the last time this many members of the crew were in the same room together was on the collector base. Now, the only evidence of their trip through Hell was a scorched beam pushed up against one of the cargo bay walls and the laser welded seams still visible along the opposite bulkhead.

The fact that they were all standing there was a god damn miracle.

Shepard glanced anxiously at the doors to the cargo bay, but there was still no sign of Chakwas and Garrus. They were the only ones still left to arrive, and Shepard decided that if she were going to avoid a riot, she'd have to get things started... as it seemed the rabble was beginning to stir...

Climbing onto a nearby crate, there were a few cheers before the room began to settle. Even Grunt removed the bottle from his mouth and stood quietly.

"I know we're all eager to dig in, so I will make this quick." The room had now gone completely silent, and Shepard took the opportunity to look over her crew. Each of them was watching her intently.

"Ok, business first. I'm sure by now you've all heard that our paths must diverge. I am wanted by the Alliance, the Batarians and the Council for some of the decisions I've had to make. I accept responsibility of these decisions and will be surrendering myself and this ship to the Alliance within the next two weeks. "

There were murmurs amongst the crew, and Shepard waved them silent with a raised hand.

"Everyone will be paid, and crew rotations will continue as usual for the week or so. In the meantime everyone should review the new boarding protocols and fill out the departure manifest. I will do my best to drop you off as close to your final destinations as possible. Of course, any of you wishing to are welcome to stay on board, but realize that you will be returning to Alliance space and I cannot predict how warm your reception as Cerberus employees will be." She was beginning to feel like a real downer, and she had to wrack her brain to come up with something a little more inspiring.

Just as she opened her mouth to begin, the sound of the cargo hold doors opening turned everyone's head. The words she was about to speak caught in her throat as the last two crew members slipped in and joined the back of the crowd. Garrus, cybernetic gauze removed, nodded at her from the back of the room to continue.

"Hey look Commander, your boyfriend still has a face after all!" Joker suddenly yelled out, and there were a few laughs and clapping.

"Definitely an improvement there, turian," Jack added and Garrus cocked his head to the side, and gave a bemused smile as he folded his arms.

When the crew had settled back down again, Shepard took a deep breath and continued. "I could list all the amazing things we accomplished together. I could tell you all how proud you should be, that we succeeded in saving thousands, if not millions of lives. We did what no one else has ever done. But you already know that. Although people may never know the risk or sacrifice of your actions, it does not make them any less heroic or defining for each of you. Where ever life takes you after this, don't ever forget who you are." Shepard looked down for a moment as she thought about her next words. "What we have been through shows our quality as the finest this galaxy has to offer. I consider you all my family, and I will never forget any of you."

"A toast!" Gardner yelled, and Shepard realized Mordin had somehow gotten drinks to everyone in the crowd as she had been speaking. Jack was at her feet, passing a bottle up towards their Commander.

"Jack, this is straight vodka..." Shepard muttered somewhat sceptically over the cheers from the crew, which peaked as she cracked the seal.

"To the immortal Shepard!" someone yelled. "To bringing down the collectors!" someone added, "and the reapers!" There were sounds of clinking glasses and bottles as Shepard raised her own bottle to salute her crew as they drank to her and the uncertain future. It was impossible for her to suppress her grimace as the vodka burned down her throat.

"Okay eat!"she coughed out before hopping down from the crate.

As the crowd rushed the spread of food, it cleared a path to a familiar face. He was walking towards her, his long strides noticeably more graceful without the bulk of his upper armour. As he stopped in front of her he flashed her a cocky smile.

"Have I mentioned how sexy you are when you're making speeches about saving the galaxy?" he said with a razor toothed grin. Shepard smiled back at him as she leaned against the crate she had just been standing on.

"All that talk about risks, heroics and sacrifice gets turians all hot and bothered, does it?"

"Not all turians... " he sighed as he leaned against the stack of crates beside her, his back to the food, "but most of us."

"Oh god... all those times I spoke to the council, the turian councillor was just arguing with me to get his jollies," she laughed, but her humour fizzled into a smile as she her attention was stolen by his healed face - to finally see him the way he would look from now on. Without his heavy armour covering his chest, she could feel the heat emanating through the dark, long sleeved fabric of his shirt. Most likely he was well aware that she was ravaging him with her eyes, but he was polite enough not to say anything in front of the crew.

"Looks like Chakwas already did half the work for me," Shepard said under her breath, and she smiled at the way his eyes turned predatory. It was difficult, but she restrained the hand that willed her to run a finger along the edge of the armour that wrapped around his narrow waist.

"I think I was right..." Garrus murmured, crossing his arms, perhaps in an effort to still his own hands.

"About?" she asked distractedly, her eyes tracing the smooth lines on the now exposed scarred side of his face.

He leaned in closer to her, "Your weakness for men with scars," he whispered under his breath.

She gave him a coy smile, "Yes... well... guilty as charged, Officer Vakarian." She'd learned some time ago that calling him that drove him crazy, and in fact she had realized that any time she coupled their titles with a hint of a smile, it was guaranteed to test his professional demeanour.

"I wish you'd had this little gathering in the mess hall," he complained, looking away from her and to mass of chattering, drinking and eating crew members.

"Why's that?"

"Because I don't have vivid memories about ripping your clothes off up there," he said with complete seriousness as he turned back to look at her. "Just being down here with you is testing all of my self control."

"And just how strong is your self control?" she asked innocently, enjoying the way his hands flexed, mandibles quivered. Yes, she was purposely egging him on, but somehow she couldn't help herself. Seeing the way he wanted her, the desire in his eyes made her feel good - made her feel alive. It was more than a pleasant distraction from the reality of her situation and the topics of conversation she was avoiding. Maybe it was true that she was just trying to make enough memories to last her while she was imprisoned, however long that would be. That was assuming she were wrong about the reapers. And sometimes she wished she were.

Her eyes came back to his face, and partially curious - partially bent on pushing his buttons, she reached out to touch the scarred side of his face. But her fingers never made it, stopped by a hand he quickly raised between them. Eyes drifting closed, he took a deep breath.

"Shepard, if you touch me now, your crew will witness something that may scar them for life. Or turn them on, I'm not sure which is worse."

Of course she took it as a dare. How could she not touch him, if only to see his reaction - to test his self control when he seemed trapped in these almost primitive states of desire? It was lose/lose for him now. He'd either prove himself a liar if she touched him and he did nothing, or he submits to his wants and takes her right there in front of the entire crew.

How could she resist?

"Shepard," Kelly appeared beside them, and it was clear she had realized too late that she was interrupting. "Umm sorry... uhh Shepard, Grunt wants you to watch him eat his first... ummm live animal."

Shepard dropped her hand and gave the yeoman an uncertain smiled. "Live animal?"

"Oh, krogans eat these live reptile-gopher things called murghi. He's really excited about it because it'll be his first real taste of krogan cuisine and he wants his... battlemaster... to be there for it." The way Kelly said battlemaster made Shepard feel a little ridiculous for some reason.

Shepard gave Garrus a small smile and he nodded. "You don't want to miss baby's first live animal ingestion," he said with mock seriousness and she laughed before following Kelly towards the excitement.

"Shepard, do you want to share one with me?" Grunt called out as he held the small squirming animal above the crowd. There were several people gathered around to witness the spectacle, though several of them, including Tali, appeared to be uncertain of their ability to stomach what they were about to see...

"Don't want to steal your thunder Grunt, beside, not sure if my mouth is big enough," Shepard answered.

"Oh I'm pretty sure it's big enough," Joker chimed in, and Shepard threw a mock jab in his direction, almost causing him to drop the plate of food he was holding.

Making his way the end of the buffet, Garrus was investigating the dextro marked food containers that were set apart from the rest of the spread. He paused, looking up from the food to watch the juvenile krogan hold the squirming animal up to his mouth. It was quite something that Gardner had managed to find live krogan food on Illium, get it decontaminated and onto the ship. Garrus figured watching something be eaten alive probably wouldn't help his appetite any, so he turned back to lifting the lids on containers and inspecting the contents.

As the smells finally registered in his brain he realized that he was starving. One container smelled especially good, and Garrus licked his chops in anticipation. His hand stilled over the lid as he felt someone come up beside him.

"Anything good over here?" It was Tali, and Garrus breathed a quiet sigh of relief that it wasn't Liara.

"Not sure..." the turian began before he was interrupted by several distinctly human cries of surprise from the direction of the krogan. Garrus and Tali looked down just in time to see the small web toed animal scurry off and disappear behind a stack of crates.

"I don't know Grunt, maybe you should stick to doughnuts," Jack could be heard saying, and the krogan stomped in frustration.

"You've got to be joking," Tali mumbled to herself as she stared at the small gap where the creature had squeezed itself and vanished. "You just know that thing is going to end up mangled and twisted in some critical system in engineering." She turned back to the food and began pulling lids off of containers until she found some sort of orangey red soupy substance that Garrus didn't recognize. "Oh wow, smazda!" she squealed.

He couldn't quite grasp the excitement over any food that had to be ingested through a sterilized oral feeding tube, but he supposed as a quarian, that was about as good as it got. The amount and variety of food they had managed to amass in the cargo hold was pretty impressive. Several of the turian dishes weren't just uniquely Palaven, but were actually from the continent and region he was from. Filling his plate, he left Tali at the table and found a spot to sit. As he ate, he watched Shepard work the room, politely disregarding the slight intoxication of several of the crew, reassuring others and answering questions.

As he watched her, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he should make her up a plate of food, but he really didn't know what to put on it. It was a sad thought, that they were bond mates, and yet he had no idea what she ate.

__Well, dammit if he wasn't going to try.__

Setting down his plate, he grabbed a fresh one and stormed with great determination over to the row of steaming containers of levo food, most of which had been left open. He stood there and stared mutely. It all looked strange, foreign, and not particularly appetizing. He couldn't tell the difference between salarian, asari or human food – even if a lot of it was labelled, it didn't really tell him anything. Drell and krogan foods were slightly easier to identify because of their simplicity. He looked around, trying not to be too obvious as he studied what other humans had on their plates.

Hmm white mush... it seemed popular amongst the humans as he noted several of them shovelling the slop into their mouths - so he added some onto the plate. Green and white miniature trees... he stuck a few of those on their too. There was a bowl of some sort of dark sauce that caught his attention. He brought it to his nose for a sniff... it smelled good, kind of sweet... reminded him of a festive turian meat gravy, and something was telling him that the white mush needed some sort of sauce on top, so he poured it on. He saw Jacob tearing off a piece of a partially cut up carcass of some meaty animal he couldn't identify. Garrus stared at the label. TURKEY. When Jacob had left, the turian stepped up to investigate. Even though all the other humans were enjoying the light coloured meat, something in his head was telling him that Shepard didn't like it. He made up for it by grabbing a good helping of some dark brown crispy looking meat strips – at least they smelled pretty good.

Rather pleased with himself, he returned to where he'd left his plate and set down Shepard's beside him. He met her eyes from across the room and she smiled at him as she spoke with Chakwas.

The only person other than Shepard who wasn't already eating was Liara, who had just finished filling her plate and was walking towards him. Garrus felt his appetite wane.

"Is it alright if I join you?" the asari asked, and the turian shrugged indifferently, wishing desperately that she would leave, or that the ship would be attacked by collectors, or Cerberus or the Alliance – anything to interrupt the conversation he knew was about to take place.

She sat where Shepard had been, and together they quietly moved the food around their plates and said nothing. After several awkward moments Liara set down her fork and eventually broke the silence. "It was upsetting to hear that Archangel had died." Liara began and Garrus huffed. "I know a lot of people depended on the unofficial law of Omega."

"It was probably time he met his end anyway." Garrus responded quietly, his hand rubbing some imaginary fleck of food off his armoured thigh.

"I received a lot of good intel from him over the past year."

Garrus said nothing.

Liara nodded towards the Commander. "You and Shepard..."she stole a quick glance at the turian before looking back at her food, "You seem happy with yourselves. I'm glad... that things worked out the way you wanted. I bet she never even saw it coming."

Garrus dropped his utensil on his plate and sat back without looking at the asari beside him.

"The way I wanted?" Garrus growled, not able to hide how infuriated he suddenly was. She was saying it like he had somehow forced himself into Shepard's life, like some blathering rapist who only needed to check for a heartbeat before trying to find the right angle to slip it in. "You knew Cerberus was trying to bring her back, didn't you?" It was something Garrus had been thinking about a lot. The way Liara had known that the human centric group had taken the body, but claimed she had no idea why. Intuition had screamed at him that the asari knew more than she was letting on, but he buried his suspicions, blindly trusting that she would tell him whatever she knew.

"Do you really think that telling you would have helped? What if they had never succeeded?"

"You still should have told me. Instead you forced me to live with the finality of her death for two years..."

"And if I had told you, what then? Would you have simply sat around and waited until she returned? At least you went out and did something with yourself instead of depending on her to lead you along." Liara had returned to picking away at her food.

"Yeah and I almost got myself killed, not to mention the members of my team whose bodies were probably blasted out an airlock once the scavengers found them."

Garrus gave her a scathing look and the asari sighed, "Maybe I should have told you, but it's too late for any of that now."

As pissed off as he was, she was right. He could sit there and berate her for her decisions, but in the end she was the reason Shepard was still with them, and not just a phantom in his dreams. It was hard for him to remember that, despite how many years senior she was, she was still immature and made foolish decisions just as he did.

"I guess it's just hard for me... to see the two of you together..." Liara continued as she picked up her drink and swirled the liquid around thoughtfully. "Is it everything you hoped it would be?"

Somehow, the asari was making him feel guilty. He didn't want to answer her, but she stared silently at him until he did. "Yes." he admitted, and he momentarily thought he caught a glimpse of disappointment in Liara's eyes.

"Then we should probably tell Shepard what happened between us. I don't think I can carry the burden of that knowledge around for the next century. "

"I let you in on my access to Omega's network, I apologized for what happened. You keep insisting that this all important, life changing 'thing' happened between us, but as far as I'm concerned nothing happened, so I'm not sure what else you want from me."

The look on her face said he was breaking her heart, and although he felt badly, some part of him felt satisfaction at causing her pain. Perhaps this way she would be able to start again, to pursue her life without his interference.

"But Garrus, it was something... I've tried to convince myself that it wasn't, but you know it was. You can't just brush what happened aside... I don't want anything from you Garrus," she sighed, pressing her palm against her forehead. "But I think we should tell Shepard."

"No." he answered emphatically, turning back to his food, determined not to allow her to ruin his appetite. He glanced up from his plate to make sure they were still speaking in relative privacy and that Shepard was still well out of ear shot.

"I think she has a right to know..." Liara tried again.

"You know, to us, you have all the time in the world. By comparison, our lives are short, and the time Shepard and I have together is even shorter. Not only because of the reapers and the upcoming threat of galactic war, but because half the galaxy wants her dead or locked up, due in no small part to you."

Saying the words made them suddenly real, even though he had known his time with Shepard was limited. How dare Liara think she could somehow taint their time together?

"I-" the asari began, but Garrus wouldn't let her explain.

"I refuse to let what meagre time I have left with her be ruined just because you need to get something off your chest so you can sleep soundly. Whether we die fighting this war, or we live the rest of our years looking at each other through bars, at least I'll die knowing this sort of happiness exists."

"That's not what this is about," Liara's voice had dropped, her eyes turning angry. "How can you keep secrets from someone you call your mate?" Garrus couldn't stop his surprise from showing on his face. "Your big secret isn't isn't much of a secret, and I know more about turian culture than you may think. I know there isn't supposed to be secrets between you. Trust... isn't that the most important thing?"

The plate of food on Garrus' lap shifted as he fidgeted uncomfortably. Liara looked, for the first time, sympathetic. "Do you really just want to pretend all of 'this'" she motioned between them, "never happened?"

Garrus took a long drink from the glass he had held in a death grip since their conversation began. Closing his eyes for a moment, he whispered his answer. "Yes."

"Alright," the asari finally said with obvious resignation, "I won't interfere, but if she asks me, I will not lie to her face. Shepard isn't stupid. Eventually she reveals the truth behind everything... and everyone."

Liara stood to leave, but she hesitated, "Garrus I... " she went quiet, and instead of continuing, simply shook her head before returning to the buffet. Garrus watched her fill her plate before searching out Tali and taking a seat with her.

It took some effort to keep the morose look off his face, knowing that it would draw Shepard back to him with a frenzy of questions about what he and Liara could possibly have been discussing that had made him so upset. And if Shepard did start asking him about it... he would probably tell her everything. Not just about Liara, but probably also what a mess he had been, the ridiculous neurosis he had worked himself into while he believed she was in a cold grave on some distant planet. There was no way he was going to outwardly lie to her face. Hadn't he done it simply to be closer to her? To feel something other than the suffocating futility that seemed to have woven itself into the very fabric of a universe without her?

Draining the last drop of his drink, Garrus shuffled back to Mordin for a refill.

"Another serving of Red General?" the salarian inquired, bottle already in hand. The turian nodded. "Liara T'Soni, former crewmate - do I sense personal tension?" Mordin asked as he filled Garrus's glass.

"Yay, a free psychoanalysis. You going to be here all night?" he retorted sarcastically, downing his drink in one gulp, his mandibles flaring as the liquid burned his mouth. Setting the empty glass back down in front of the professor, he motioned for another.

"Ah, humour as distraction," the salarian observed rather clinically as he refilled the glass. "Eventually crew will be too intoxicated to be concerned with what method alcohol enters their body – at which time my services will no longer be required."

"That's tragic," Garrus mused sardonically, swirling the liquid around in his glass.

Unfazed, the salarian resealed the bottle and set it down carefully in its assigned location amongst the rest of the booze."Normally, would recommend caution when withholding information from Shepard. But circumstances have changed. Everyone lives like salarian now. Our time on this plane is too short to be wasted on anger and resentment."

"So you think we'll come out of this?"

"Impossible to predict. I've lived good salarian life and may not even be alive for invasion – but worry for rest of the galaxy. Reapers seem powerful, completely relentless. Shepard will need your help. Try to keep her safe. May be only salvation."

"That's a lot of pressure, Mordin, thanks," Garrus mumbled over the rim of his glass.

"Best to stay positive Garrus. Doctor's orders," Mordin explained as he turned to fill the empty glass of another crewmate. Garrus nodded before heading back to his food. Shepard was waiting for him, examining the plate of food he had gathered for her.

"This is very... uhh thank you," she said as she looked at the plate.

"I'm sorry, it's probably cold by now... " Garrus replied, trying to forget his conversation with Liara and Mordin.

"There sure is a lot of bacon on here... and did someone tell you to put chocolate sauce on the mashed potatoes?"

"That's... wrong, isn't it."

She smiled. "It's perfect, thanks." He watched her dip a piece of meat into the dark sauce and put it in her mouth. As she chewed she shrugged, and picked up another. "I'm glad you didn't get me any turkey... I'm not a huge fan. Bacon on the other hand," she shook a piece of the sad, shrivelled meat at him before sticking it in her mouth. He realized he was staring, watching her eat, so he forced himself to return to his meal.

"What you're eating smells pretty good," she mumbled through a full mouth as she gave his plate a curious look.

He nodded.

"Liara okay? She seemed a little upset," Shepard continued as she took a bite of potato and chocolate.

Garrus swallowed and tried to keep his voice as level as possible. "She has some concerns, but I think she understands that things are being handled as best they can." He prayed that would be enough for her, and after giving him a long look, she nodded. Somehow this simple act made him feel even worse -that she trusted him so much as to not even questions his incomplete, suspicious answer.

"Look Garrus," Shepard set down her plate, complete seriousness overshadowing her features. Garrus paused mid chew. "I don't want there to be secrets between us," she explained, and Garrus had to struggle to swallow the food in his mouth. "The shadow broker had a lot of information about the Normandy... including dossiers on the entire crew... and team," she stated flatly.

This was it, he realized, as she pinned him with that stare that made his heart flop around like a beached fish. It shouldn't have been surprising that the Shadow Broker had information on him. As much as he had tried to convince himself of how well he'd dropped off the radar and begun his second life on Omega, there was probably a trail of false identities, security footage and credit accounts that led right to him.

He gave her an innocent twitch of his mandibles in an attempt to seem more curious than guilty, but he suspected he'd already shown his hand.

"So that's what you were doing while I was playing nursemaid? Reading into everyone's personal lives?" He didn't mean to come off sounding quite so defensive.

"I will confess to some snooping," she admitted a little guiltily. "Aside from Jack's poetry, Legion's extranet gaming, and Miranda's failed attempts at online dating, there was really only one thing that surprised me." Garrus bravely stared back at his Commander, waiting for the hammer to come down. "There was a conversation between you and your sister... Why didn't you tell me your mom was ill?"

It had been the last thing he'd expected. Of the great many mistakes, secret regrets, shady activities, risky missions and other very questionable acts he had participated in while she had been gone - it was his long standing difficulties with his family that she was confronting him about?

She was waiting for him to answer, and he suddenly realized he had been repeatedly lifting and setting down the utensil he held. Shock, relief and annoyance were all battling in his mind for supremacy, making it difficult for him to offer her any sort of response.

"I wasn't purposefully trying to keep it from you, if that's what you're suggesting."

"Garrus, we're well funded by Cerberus. You know I would have helped you, if you'd only asked." She was giving him a concerned look, and something about it got to him. Maybe it was her tone, or maybe it was the lingering emotion from his conversation with Liara. Is that what she thought of him? That he was dependent? Vulnerable? That he couldn't fight his own battles? Well, he wasn't helpless, and the idea that she was worried about him or worse, pitied him, made him want to punch things, repeatedly. Anger bubbled up inside of him, and he sat forward in his chair, trying not to stab the food on his plate quite so intently.

"I am able to function on my own, Shepard, despite what you might think. I don't need you to fight all of my battles," he said bitterly.

He couldn't bear to look at her. Commander Shepard was rarely at a loss for words, and her silence now revealed more than anything she could have said. When he did finally look at her, she had an elbow propped up on the larger crate behind them, her hand cradling her jaw, plate still in her lap. She was looking past him, mind lost in thought.

He felt like an asshole.

Of course Shepard was just being Shepard - she was trying to help. Maybe that was all she knew how to do... it was certainly all she did, every moment of every day, alive or dead. All her time was spent for others, helping people that she often barely knew. And the only person in her life that meant more to her - was keeping her out.

"I want to help because I care about you Garrus, not because I think you need it."

Garrus let out a long, resigned sigh. "I'm sorry," he muttered numbly," I know you want to help, but this was something I needed to do alone. I don't like feeling as though I'm incapable of taking care of myself and my life... and well, I haven't exactly been the ideal son. I guess I thought I could try and be that son before we hit the relay... just in case..." Garrus set his plate aside. "Just in case I never came back. Besides, you had already done enough Shepard, I couldn't ask for more."

His voice trailed off as he felt her soft hand settle on his, and as he had done so many times before, found himself astounded by their difference in size. "You stopped me from killing Sidonis, which probably prevented me from becoming just another jaded, revenge driven merc with a gun. Not to mention how you've saved my dumb turian ass a dozen or more times... not just on Omega, or all the other random moments of certain death we've faced... but, so many times in the past two years that you'll never know, " Garrus closed his eyes, the chatter of the other people around them fading away. "And then you gave me this... " he said quietly, placing his other hand over hers.

When he opened his eyes, she was staring down at their hands. "You know we don't keep score when it comes to ass saving, dumb or otherwise."

"If we did I'd probably be so indebted to you, I'd be your slave."

"I wouldn't mind that." She smiled, her bottom lip sliding between her white teeth. "I still wish you had let me help."

"Maybe I should have," he admitted, "but Shepard, even though I joke about being a bad turian, I really am bothered by the idea of having to admit it to my family. I'd like to think they can depend on me for something."

"I don't think you're a bad turian, Garrus."

He chuckled a little and it was enough to draw a small smile from her. "I'd say your opinion is a little biased."

"Hmmm maybe you're right," she gave him a slow nod. "When is the last time you saw them?"

"My family?" She nodded. "I visited Palaven just before the attack on Eden Prime."

"Garrus," she leaned forward. "That was almost two and a half years ago."

"Yeah..."

They ate in relative quiet for a little while, but Garrus could tell Shepard was thinking. Her eyes would narrow as she ate and her chewing would pause. As much as he wanted to know what it was she was mulling over, the silence was a relief.

A few more forkfuls and she set down her plate. "I'm going to walk the ship. EDI's got the helm, but I still want to make sure everything is running smoothly. I might go back to the base for an hour or so. Can you keep order down here, make sure things don't get out of hand?"

"Sure thing, Commander," he answered and she smiled, just like she always did from hearing her title on his lips.

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__Her soft breath was like a subtle breeze, tickling the side of his face. Or was that just a downward draft from the ventilation ducts high above him? No, it was her. It had to be. The light sensation on the back of his neck was the touch of her cool fingers as she caressed the plates that ran down the back of his head. Or maybe it was just the fabric of his shirt. No, it was her hands... her hands... __

__Garrus frowned as he looked down at the grey cloth he gripped tightly, wringing the worn material in his ungloved hands. __

__"Sometimes Shepard... sometimes I don't know what I'm doing," he said quietly. The poorly defined shadows behind him shifted in his peripheral vision and he sighed. How long could he keep doing this? It seemed like no matter how tightly he held on to her, she just kept drifting farther away. __

__Bringing the shirt to his face, his nose wrinkled as he took a long breath. But he realized with a sinking heart, that her scent had finally faded completely from it, replaced by the slight acrid stench of Omega's recycled air. He tossed the garment aside, and then stared at the forlorn piece of fabric for a beat before quickly snatching it back up, folding it neatly and setting it down beside him. He couldn't just toss it away. It had still been hers, after all.__

__There was a soft thump of shifting metal behind him, and Garrus glanced over his shoulder to see Butler, one of his human teammates, peaking out the window at him. He casually slid the shirt under his thigh.__

__"Hey, Archie..." the human climbed out and slid down the exhaust duct to where his turian Commander was sitting. Everyone knew that if Archangel couldn't be found in the warehouse, the next place to check was the roof. It was where he could be found most nights, but tonight his solitude must have seemed strange considering the rest of the team was inside, getting drunk and celebrating the huge shipment of red sand they had blasted into space earlier that night. Garm would be losing sleep, that was for sure. And for those on his team who'd lost loved ones due to Omega's gangs, they might finally get some peace - at least for tonight. __

__"Some of the guys wanna know if you're going to play Skyllian Five with us."__

__The turian didn't answer. Butler shuffled his feet a little uncomfortably and was about to turn back to the bunker when his commander suddenly spoke.__

__"What's the betting pool up to?"__

__Butler laughed, somewhat relieved as he took a seat on the beam next to the turian. Garrus knew he walked a fine line between allowing his men to feel like they could trust him without letting them know too much about him. Some of the guys found him intimidating; others knew the turian was quiet for his own reasons. On a few occasions he'd almost been tempted to open up to them, but it was a bad idea.__

__"Well... tonight Erash put his money on you being an ex-spectre." __

__Garrus laughed. "That's flattering!"__

__"He says that rifle you use is spectre master series."__

__"It is. It was given to me by a very good friend."__

__"You musta had some important job before you became a vigilante. If we ever do guess correctly, will you tell us?"__

__"Hmmm maybe," the turian rubbed a bare hand across his chin, "though you'd probably all be better off not knowing anything about my past." They got to see him without his helmet, and that was probably enough.__

__The human smiled."Hell, you're not making it sound any less interesting!" __

__Below them someone emerged from the warehouse and headed across the bridge and towards the main district.__

__"Where's Sidonis going?" Garrus wondered aloud as they watched the turian disappear on the other side. It wasn't strange for team members to go where they wanted, but he liked to know just the same.__

__"Said he had to pick up something. Didn't really say much. He seemed sort of antsy, but you know how Sidonis is. He's one jumpy bastard."__

__Garrus nodded slowly, still staring at the spot where the turian had vanished into the dimly lit corridors of the factory district. Eventually he pushed himself up and turned to his squadmate, "I suppose I should come in, at least to make sure Mierin doesn't get so drunk that we have a repeat of the last incident."__

__The two men on the roof looked to the window as sudden cheers and some hardy cursing came from inside, which quickly dissolved into laughs. Garrus felt himself smile. He was surrounded by good soldiers, and even though he couldn't get Shepard back, it was enough knowing that he had them, and together they were making a difference.__

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Shepard hit the play button again. The image on the large holographic screen flickered before jumping to life. The vid revealed a dimly lit store room, the view partially obscured by an object too close to the concealed camera to be identifiable. Clearly visible were three batarians who sat around a crate, playing cards and being generally rude to each other as they took liberal drinks from tall bottles. There was a vorcha sitting in the corner, scratching at his neck and hissing.

"Fucking vermin have parasites... I don't understand why we keep them around!" one of the batarians swore angrily, his fist coming down heavily on their makeshift table. His companions murmured in agreement in low, indistinguishable voices.

"Ieeeeeee not have parasites!" the vorcha squealed, baring its teeth at the seated batarians.

"Hiss at me again you damn-"

There was a thump, and they all froze. Even the vorcha stopped hissing and listened.

"What was that-"

A fiery explosion overexposed the scene, and barely, through the smoke and falling debris Shepard could make out armed individuals entering, guns blazing. They made quick work of any survivors of the blast, and as they double checked the rooms to make sure they were clear, Shepard could hear a distinctly familiar voice.

"Let's get those canisters to the airlock. We've got eight more minutes until Tarak and his posse return."

Garrus, in his easily recognizable blue armour, stepped into view. Shepard couldn't help but smile as she watched him direct his team. His demeanour was calm, his orders self assured and his confidence in the efficiency of his men evident in his every move. His self-belief trickled down to the others, who moved as a well coordinated unit - as collected as though they were participating in a simple military training drill.

It took less than four minutes for Garrus and his squad to clear the place of thugs and smuggled cargo. Before they left, a single small crate was left in the middle of the room. Forwarding the video another ten minutes showed Tarak discovering the mysterious package. Pointing at the box, he ordered one of his vorcha to open it after the rest of them stood a significant distance away. Another explosion, though this one only strong enough to kill the unfortunate vorcha.

There were dozens of vids and clips, and Shepard couldn't help but make her way down the list.

At first it had had been curiosity that drove her, but slowly she began to know his team - to see the satisfaction they got from achieving their goals. She could hear it in his voice - the pride Garrus felt in the well oiled machine they had become under his direction.

It was easy to see why Garrus had been so desperate to kill Sidonis.

Facing death on a regular basis, you become attached to the people who you depend on, those that watch your back and whose lives rely on the orders you give. Shepard knew this. When bad things happen to those people? It breaks something inside that blossoms into an all encompassing fixation on striking back. But revenge was something Shepard was well versed in. It had been the primary reason she had joined the Alliance, bent on receiving the training that would allow her to kill every last batarian slaver she could find. But eventually she had realized that killing those same slavers that attacked her colony, or even a hundred slavers, would never bring her family back. It would have only further deadened her inside. Going on a crusade blinded you to facts and bigger problems. It was a battle between emotion and justice.

Though the moment had come and gone weeks earlier, lost amongst a slew of dangerous and morally ambiguous missions, she still wondered about it. He seemed to have made peace with her intervention, and had only briefly mentioned it in passing. Shepard had respectfully not brought it up. Had stopping Garrus' hand from killing Sidonis been the right move? She hoped so. Rationality told her it was, but her heart... her heart still wondered.

Eyes squinting with fatigue, she brought up another vid. Even though they were all fairly similar, there was something disturbingly familiar about the entire thing. The way he commanded his team, the critical decisions he was forced to make on the fly - she realized she could almost perfectly predict his movements and the orders he gave.

They were the same commands she would have given.

"Check the blind spot in the room," she felt herself whisper, suddenly realizing she had been talking to herself out loud. The familiar turian on the screen dutifully checked his blind spot. "That door looks suspicious, check it for sabotage.. ." and he did. "Now wait and listen for the watchman... leave someone to cover the back door... " and he did. Had he really picked up all those things while working with her? It seemed unlikely.

She thought back to what he had said to her weeks... she corrected herself... two years earlier.

"__I just wanted to thank you Shepard. I've learned a lot."__

Shepard turned off the video and stood in silence for a few moments. There was a low rumble from somewhere deep inside the base, and she tensed... but it quickly faded back into the very faint whir of the ventilation ducts high up on the ceiling. How anyone could live in such an unbearably cold and sterile place seemed incomprehensible.

Heading back into the main control room, she'd planned to head back to the ship... but she paused, looking over at the main console and the large screen above it displaying incoming information. She closed the distance quickly and started wading through the information again. It was like a drug... all this knowledge - her own personal crystal ball. Just a few more minutes...

She brought up Garrus' dossier again.

__Exceptional tactical and team building skills. Leadership potential overshadowed by Shepard.__

__...overshadowed...__

She bit her lip.

The look on his face when he had come to her the eve before heading to Illos... and then when she had walked into that warehouse full of bodies... the shy smiles he had given her across the table in Eternity. Why did it feel like there was some piece of the puzzle she was missing?

Shepard opened up another video in the main control room, fast forwarding parts and pausing others, not sure what she was looking for.

The sound of an opening door startled her and she spun around, only to find Liara. Shepard paused the footage and stepped back, feeling for some reason a little embarrassed as the asari opened a nearby console. Her fingers danced across the interface, her clear eyes focusing hard on whatever she was doing.

"He's quite something to watch, isn't he?" the asari remarked, eyes remaining downcast as she worked.

Shepard glanced up at the stilled footage, the image not really registering. "It's almost spooky... watching him. I guess two years really is a long time."

"I suppose we all dealt with your absence differently," the asari said cryptically, her fingers pausing over the console. She looked up, fixing her former Commander with a questioning stare. "Does he make you happy?"

Unable to hide her surprise, Shepard folded her arms as she leaned back against the main console. Strangely enough, she found an infectious smile tugging on the corners of her lips. "Yeah... yeah he does." she ran a hand over her hair, "I never would have thought I'd end up with a turian..."

Liara gave her a somewhat reassuring smile. "He means well... and he really loves you, you know... so try not to be too hard on him." She closed the haptic display and turned to leave. "Oh Goddess, I almost forgot," she reached into her pocket as she approached Shepard, and pulled out something small that fit into her cupped hand. "Captain... I mean, Councillor Anderson gave me these just a few weeks after your funeral..." She pressed the cool metal into Shepard's hand. "It's really good to have you back, Shepard. And I'm happy for you... you and Garrus. It's good that you've found someone in this galaxy that makes you happy. You deserve it."

Gripping the chain, Shepard let the metal dog tags slide out of her hand and twist in the semi lit glow of the shadow broker control room.

"Thank you, Liara."

"I'll let you get back to what you were doing. Feron and I are going to check some of the other areas on the base." Shepard nodded and watched the asari head for the door.

"Liara," Shepard called out and the asari paused at the door. "I know I already asked you, but are you sure you're up for all this?" Shepard motioned to the room of vid screens and blinking consoles. "I know I said it would be a great resource, but I stand by my offer... if you feel like it's too much, we can just blow the place."

"I can handle it, Shepard," Liara smiled. But she didn't leave as Shepard had expected. Instead, the asari walked back to where her former Commander was standing. "Do you want me to show you?" the asari asked, her eyes intense and expression guarded.

Shepard blinked. "Show me?"

"Every asari contains an imprint of each individual they meld with. When I helped you decipher the prothean beacons, part of you stayed with me." Liara's composed expression broke slightly. "When you were gone, Garrus came to me, looking for help."

Shepard frowned. "What kind of help?"

Liara rubbed a hand over her rippled scalp. "I don't know what he's told you, but..." Liara seemed unsure of herself. "I understand this may seem... strange. But perhaps I can show you..." Her voice trailed off and she looked up at the stilled image.

Shepard followed her gaze to the somewhat disturbing image that had been the backdrop of their conversation. Face covered by his helmet, Garrus was rounding a corner, his hands wrapping around the neck of a surprised vorcha as he prepared to give it a firm twist. Behind him two other members of his team covered him, guns raised. She slid the dog tags into her pocket as her gaze settled on the dark glass of Archangel's helmet which hid the identity of Omega's vigilante prince and prevented her from looking into his eyes – as if there might be something there to connect her to this person she looked at, to understand him. But it was just an empty image, an echo of events having transpired months earlier.

Tali had been right, and even though Shepard knew she needed to stop treating Garrus as an idealistic, naive C-Sec agent... she was still doing it. The turian on the screen was a feared vigilante leader, vengeful, skilled and thorough. Why was she having such a hard time seeing him that way?

She glanced down at the dog tags she still held, then up at the asari as she slipped the small pieces of metal into her pocket.

"Ok," she breathed, "show me."

Liara stepped closer, and Shepard felt the same irk of trepidation she had felt the very first time they had perform this act, years ago on the old Normandy, in front of the entire team.

"Relax Shepard...and embrace eternity."

She wasn't prepared for the sudden loud rush of sound that filled her ears and the terrible sensation of falling that made her legs feel weak. Shepard reached out instinctively to grab something, anything, as the world around her plummeted into darkness. As she grasped at empty air, her hands finally found something, and the space around her went still.

Staring down at what she clung to, her pale fingers were wrapped around a familiar blue armoured forearm. Following the arm upwards, she met the unscarred face of her lover.

"Garrus," she whispered harshly in the stillness. But his head was turned, his attention focused on some invisible horizon. He was frowning, brows pressed together, eyes squinting. It was pain she was seeing. His jaw clenched as though he were trying withhold something inside.

"No one will listen Shepard. No one believes," he whispered, his eyes so resigned it was breaking her heart. Lips parting, intent on reassuring him, she discovered her voice had left her.

She reached for his face and turned it until his eyes found her, but they seemed to look right through her. That's when she began to feel it. An overwhelming feeling of defeat. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt it crawl up her spine. It was a sickening loss, one she hadn't felt since the loss of her family. She had buried that feeling so deep, and now it stirred again, fresh and suffocating like smoke filling her lungs.

Closing her eyes, her mind automatically attempted to take control of the crippling emotion, press it down so that it couldn't possess her. But these feelings were coming from somewhere else, a place beyond her own mind, and there was no suppressing them.

Just as she began to think the oppressive dark was too much for her to bear, there was something else... a warmth that began in her finger tips, cutting through the gloom. Her eye lids were red with back lighting, and when she opened them, the darkness had vanished. The world around her was blinding. Garrus was looking back at her, the light draining the colour out of his face.

"Not enough time," Garrus murmured, his eyes finally registering her, "Shepard," he repeated with desperation before the remaining colour flickered and bled out until a white flash forced her shut her eyes again.

When she opened them, she was disoriented, and for a moment she could remember nothing - not her name, or her purpose or what she was even seeing - just colours and shapes. Just like the moments following being knocked out on the battlefield. The images she had just seen were already being absorbed into some deep part of her mind, the details lost in the cacophony of consciousness.

Her hand wasn't gripping Garrus' s arm, but Liara's, and her other hand pressed to the side of the asari's face. Shepard took a step back, running her hands over her face as her brain jump started.

"That wasn't how I remembered it happening," she mumbled, bewildered.

"Asari don't usually expose different species to meld imprints," the Liara reached out and put a reassuring hand on Shepard's shoulder. "I'm sorry if it upset you."

"No... no... I'm alright," she assured her, standing up straight in an attempt to assure the asari.

Liara look unconvinced, but Shepard nodded and waved her concern away. Reluctantly, the asari turned and headed for the exit. "Take as long as you like... just... try not to dig too deep. You may not like what you find," she suggested as she stepped over a fallen beam and disappeared through the door.

With the heavy thud of the door closing, Shepard was left alone once again. With some unease she realized her hands were shaking, and she wrung them together with annoyance. There were too many questions. She hadn't realized that members of the previous crew had been in contact after the demise of the ship. It was impossible for her to be sure what exactly had happened between Liara and Garrus, but perhaps it was none of her business. She had been dead after all, and she had never quizzed any of her previous lovers about their past relationships.

Then again, how many actual relationships had she been in?

She needed time - time to digest the strange feelings she had.

"I am forwarding new stories of interest to you Shadow Broker," the VI announced and Shepard jumped in surprised. The glowing white orb hovered around uselessly and she let out a nervous laugh.

"Christ I'm getting jumpy in my old age," she mumbled bitterly to herself. "Maybe I should replace this VI with the pirated one of myself I pick up on the Citadel... Alright, show me this new story of interest... "

A large part of the display flickered and Shepard took a step back to take in the entire image.

"This is Avir, Illiuim's trusted news source, thirty four hours a day, eight days a week... We're on the scene of just one of the most recent in a slew of tragic acts of violence to rock Nos Astra. Just moments ago, new details are emerged - behind me, an asari spectre, who sources have identified as Tela Viser, a native of Sortaigia, was supposedly murdered by former Alliance Commander and resurrected galactic hero-" Shepard was already tuning the reporter's voice out as her eyes scanned the activity in the background.

"There are reports that the Citadel Council will be sending representatives-"

"Pause video!" Shepard suddenly blurted and the video froze, "enlarge top right." In the zoomed in section over the reporter's shoulder was a familiar face. He was looking leaner, even in his armour. Face drawn into a frown, he was staring down at the dead asari.

Kaidan.

A pale faced, red tattooed turian joined him, and the insignia on his arm was that of the Spectres.

"Fuck," she whispered to the empty room.

There was a mechanical grind as the door to the control room opened behind her, and Shepard smoothly navigated away from the video and busied herself with a useless list of menu items. After Liara had caught her the first time, she made sure she had something else ready just in case she were interrupted again.

"Is the party over already?" Shepard's voice echoed hollowly across the domed room as she selected some random information in the list. It wasn't entirely clear to her why she felt the need to cover up what she was doing, but she definitely felt like she had her hands in the cookie jar.

"Nope, still going, though most people ate and drank so much that it has begun to wind down a little earlier than expect. There was a game of uh... Strip Skyllian going on with Grunt down to his cod piece, so I decided it was time for me to take a break from baby-sitting" Garrus' boots clinked against the composite floor as he crossed the room. Hearing his voice did something to her, emotions were demanding that she go to him, take him in her arms, drive away the self doubt and pain. But she didn't, reminding herself that it was in her head. Just echoes, she told herself.

"I left Kasumi and Jacob in charge, as they seemed the least intoxicated," he continued, "though Kasumi was looking a little wobbly when I left. Kelly was making her these slushy red drinks and I swear Kasumi must have had eight or nine of them... " Shepard heard him pause and she glanced over her shoulder to see him standing in the middle of the room, taking in the damage. "Wasn't there a dead yagh in here?"

Shepard chuckled, turning back to the console. "Guess you didn't get hit in the head as hard as we all thought." The sound of his footsteps told her he was him climbing the few steps up to where she was standing, and for some reason her pulse began to quicken. "Mordin had the yagh dragged up to his lab. I wasn't sure if it was such a good idea but... well I never thought I'd see the man beg..."

"You made Mordin beg?"

"Well, Mordin begging is more like him repeating, ad nauseam, every logical reason why I should approve his request until I agree."

"Do you make all the men beg?" he asked, closing the distance between them and planting his hands on either side of the console she was standing at, his words rustling the hair on the back of her head. She tried to control the sigh that slipped from her lips.

"Usually," she murmured, fingers pausing on the console. He pressed himself against her back, and she realized he was still only armoured from the waist down. She felt his nose graze the back of her head and she smiled.

"I thought I might drop-off the port of call list in person..." he rasped in her ear, "though I didn't expect to have to take a shuttle to deliver it. Did you know this base has a really nice shuttle dock?"

She felt him lean back as he raised the datapad and realized with some trepidation that he hadn't bothered to look at it before coming over. It explained why their encounter had been so light hearted thus far. If he'd had read it, things would have gone differently, and in a bad way.

"Doesn't look like there's anything unexpected on here... Grunt wants to be back on Tuchanka... Thane on the Citadel, probably to be with his son, though I'm not sure how we'd dock there again without the ship being impounded..." his voice dropped off as she pressed herself back against him, the datapad wavered. If she let his eyes find his own name on that list, well, she wasn't really sure how he would react – and this was neither the time nor the place for that discussion - especially since she was still struggling with the bits of him Liara and stuck in her head, not to mention that she had just spent the better part of an hour watching this turian kick the shit out of mercs and thugs. It was... mesmerizing and somehow, mildly erotic. What the hell was wrong with her?

She needed to get his eyes off that datapad. Reaching back, her left hand grazed his waist, her fingers pressing through the fabric of his shirt. "What exactly have you been doing over here?" his voice had deepened and taken on a noticeably suggestive tone.

"Oh you know... watching some vids, reading about Udina's fetish for pigeon toed salarian women."

He snorted. "Oh that sounds sexy... wait you're not serious are you?"

That sort of imagery was probably counterproductive to her goal. Judging by the way he was still leaning against her, the datapad was probably the furthest thing from his mind, but it wasn't worth chancing it. Not waiting for curiosity to get the best of him, she spun around to face him. His mandibles twitched with amusement and he might have been about to speak, but he was immediately silenced by what came next. It was force of habit, the way she reached out and grabbed him by his armoured crotch, pulling him so close that he was pressed against the hard bosom of her chest plate. Their kiss, if you could call it that, was savage, and she was vaguely aware of the surprised look in his eyes, no doubt at the way she pushed her tongue into his mouth, running it over the soft ridges that ran along the roof of it; her hands wrapping around the back of his head, holding him to her aggressively. As his tongue pushed back, she dangerously grazed a row of pointy teeth.

The datapad clattered to the floor.

Victory.

She could feel her tongue begin to tingle from the very mild reaction she was having to his saliva, so she tried to pull back, but he was already earnestly trying to imitate her, his tongue chasing hers as it retreated back into her mouth. Her hands were working the clasps on his tunic, enjoying the way his eyes drifted closed as she peeled the fabric back. The shirt hung off his broad shoulders, exposing the curved ridge that came around his neck like a collar to meet with the smooth interlocking plates on his muscled chest. It was hers. All that he was, every turian part of him, was hers. Pressing her hands against him, she smiled as she felt him lean into the pressure she was applying.

God damn he was intoxicating.

Digging her fingers into the soft suede textured flesh under his arms, she felt the muscles in his sides shift as he stepped forward and leaned her back until she bumped into the main console. His hands were on her sides, and she started at the sudden simultaneous sensation of his tongue slipping from her mouth and his talons releasing the clasps of her chest plate, letting it fall to the floor beside them.

"Multitasking...that's impressive," she gasped as he tugged at the casual uniform she'd left on under her armour, the top clasp giving way and the rest opening so easily it was as if it had never been done up at all. "What other skills do you have that I... don't know about?" she choked out as his mouth immediately went to her neck, his tongue worrying the faded marks that still lingered from their first heated encounter in the cargo hold. So long ago, she thought...

There was another loud click and she could feel the armour covering her thighs come loose, and then ungloved talons curled around the curve of her rear and hosted her onto the console behind her. The haptic interface blinked angrily and Garrus brought down a firm hand down on the sleep mode control, the lights dimming as the panel went dark.

He was warm, pressed up against her, his breath hot against the hollow of her neck. His bare hands were sliding into her pants, squeezing the soft flesh before creeping up her back beneath the fabric of her top. Shepard hooked her legs around his waist and leaned back, letting him bury his face in her chest.

She had left Feron in the last room they had inspected, his concerns about a series of unlabelled conduits more troubling to him than to her. All Liara kept thinking about Shepard, reading secrets, trying to fill in the blanks that spanned two years of her life. It wouldn't be easy, but she hoped that maybe the meld they had shared had helped.

Garrus would not be impressed if he found out.

Liara was making her way back to the main control room, figuring Shepard would probably already be gone... but as she entered the small side room which housed the holographic video module she stopped.

From the other room came a strange sound, and another that sounded like... growling. As quietly as she could, she walked along the wall and peered into the next room.

Garrus had Shepard up on the main console, clothing askew, pieces of armour scattered on the floor like passion shrapnel. His face was buried in her open top, and every few moments Liara caught a glimpse of a long blue tongue flicking across the tip of Shepard's strange pink nipples. The asari pressed her back against the wall as she turned away. She knew she should leave, or be embarrassed at seeing her former commander partially undress or annoyed that her new office was being used as a boom boom room... but the temptation to watch was just too much.

What if they caught her watching?

It wasn't enough to stop her. Her eyes widened as she studied the movements of his talons and tongue - how his hands disappeared beneath the waist of her pants before he tugged them all the way off.

The turian's face dropped down and disappeared between the human's legs. Liara bit her lip at the way the woman stifled a moan, how her fingers wove themselves into the seams of his fringe and tugged his head impossibly closer to her body. Liara looked down at her feet, willing herself to leave and find something else to do instead of playing peeping tom on two of her friends. But even as she pressed her hands over her eyes, the sounds of their heavy breaths and passionate encouragements kept her feet frozen in place.

A heavy thud was enough to pull her eyes back to the show. Shepard had somehow heaved Garrus backwards, the thud she had heard was the sound of their bodies landing on the cold floor. She was straddling him, tugging off the armour still wrapped around his waist. It wasn't long before she had him in her hands, the dark blue a perfect match to his tongue. It was becoming apparent that Shepard was a tease, rubbing against him as he clawed at her, leaving pink lines across her cream coloured flesh.

The top of her uniform had slid down her arms, hanging limply around her and revealing what Liara suspected were old, healed bite marks, as well as faded lines that ran down her side. There was something around Shepard's neck, but it wasn't her dog tags. The asari squinted, but could not make out what it was.

Turians, it seemed, had little patience for teasing. It wasn't long before his hands tightened around her waist and pulled her to him. Their union was announced with moans and deep growls, the sounds of wet skin and the scraping of partially armour legs against the floor as they earnestly moved against each other.

Suddenly, Liara heard Shepard speak, her voice hardly more than a sigh. "Garrus..." He grunted against her. "How long?" She gasped, and his response was part moan part laugh, his thrust increasing as if to answer her question. "No... " she tried again, "how long you have loved me?"

His mouth opened, but instead of an answer he breathed out a quiet moan.

"Before the derelict reaper?"

He sat up, pulling her close as she moved against him. He said nothing.

"Before Horizon?" she gasped. Face pressed against her chest, still he said nothing, his long talons curling into her hair. There was obviously a certain amount of effort involved as she struggled to continue her questions.

"Before... Omega...?" she breathed.

"Yes," he hissed back. Her head was tilting backward as he dragged his talons down her bare back.

"Before... before Illos?" Shepard half moaned, quickening her pace.

"Before Illos," the turian repeated forcefully.

Liara pressed her forehead against the cool metal composite wall, unable to walk away nor tune out the confessions coming from the next room. The sounds of desperate, primal lust had reached a crescendo now, and she looked up just in time to see Shepard arch against the solid grip Garrus had on her waist as he let out a deep, flanging roar.

As they stilled, he pressed his cheek against hers, and Liara could see the woman's lips move, but could not hear her words. Her face looked wet, though surely it was from sweat and not tears.

There was a noise behind her, sending Liara stumbling back from the wall as she looked to the door. It was Feron. He strolled in, completely unaware of what was happening in the next room, despite the fidgety embarrassment of his friend.

When he noticed her slightly dishevelled appearance his lips parted, but before he could speak she was beside him, a hand cupped over his mouth. She directed him back through the door the way he had come. When the door slid closed, Liara released her hand and Feron gave her an questioning look.

"Shepard and Garrus were... having an important... discussion, I thought they could use some privacy." She hadn't realized how heavy she was breathing. Would Feron noticed? Could he see how dilated her pupils were and ask her what was wrong? Goddess, she hoped not.

If he knew, he said nothing, only nodded sceptically before handing her the datapad she hadn't realized he was holding.

"Looks like we've finally got complete access to the base, Liara. I've made sure control is routed through the main control room. So..." the drell looked around a little nervously. "What should we do next?"

Smiling at him she took the datapad and quickly scanned the information, realizing as she did so that she was beginning an entirely new journey in her life - and so were Shepard and Garrus. Perhaps in the future she would fight by her friends' sides again, but for the moment, she was the Shadow Broker, and she had a job to do.


	19. Chapter 19

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Chapter 19

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

In the cool, dim light of her quarters she was carved from stone - alabaster, or possibly marble. Perfectly chiseled lines and smooth curves sanded just so, as if formed by gently swirling beach sand over a patient century or two.

It was only her deep breaths and quiet sighs that ruined the illusion.

Earlier, it had seemed that the simple act of stepping foot back on the ship had hit Shepard like a biotic shockwave, impacting her forward momentum so visibly Garrus had been tempted to grab her elbow to support her - though he doubted that would have been tolerated. It had taken noticeable effort for her to order Joker to plot a course to Tuchanka, before dragging herself up to her bed and giving in to its soft embrace. She was already fast asleep by the time he'd finished wrestling off her armour and had draped the comforter over her.

Her exhaustion was uncharacteristic. He wondered if she was ill – maybe the concoction of food he'd assembled for her at the party had been a toxic combination of ingredients. Or was she just tired? One might assume that weeks of sleepless nights and long shift hours would condition the body to function on such a schedule. But he knew well enough that it was only a matter of time before the lost hours caught up and demanded penance.

Still - something seemed off, and Garrus wasn't quite sure what it was.

He had been lying beside her for an hour or so, watching her sleep, admiring her body and simply revelling in their time together. But the longer he watched, the more anxious he became. Exhaustion should have claimed him by now, but he couldn't seem to keep his eyes closed. Uninterrupted silence and calm meant time think - time to think meant the realization of worries and nightmares. By the time Shepard's breathing had become long and deep, he had worked himself into such a state of apprehension that he could barely lay still.

It was their last encounter that had his mind doing back flips. When he'd finally found Shepard, she'd appeared to be doing nothing at the former Shadow Broker's main console but browsing lists of archives. It had struck him as a little odd that she hadn't immediately shown him what interesting bits of info she had come across.

And then there had been the peculiar turn of events – not that he was complaining.

Shepard had never struck him as an exhibitionist, and while the Shadow Broker base wasn't exactly a public place, Liara or Feron could have walked in on them at any moment. Of course at the time, it was the last thing on his mind.

He had not sought her out for sex - instead it had been his overwhelming desire to simply be near her that had sent him searching. The datapad had been nothing more than a convenient excuse. But Shepard was authoritative, and, well... he was beginning to realize she typically got what she wanted. Garrus smiled to himself briefly as he recalled the desperate way she had pulled him close and assaulted him with her mouth. And then there were the questions. He'd never been completely honest with her about his past, perhaps out of a mixture of embarrassment, regret and a new found desire to live in the present. Gripped in their moments of passion, it was easy to feel at ease and even liberal with one's emotions.

Of course part of him desperately wanted her to know everything - how he used to pace in the cargo hold waiting for her to arrive so they could pile into the mako, how he'd learned the patterns in her schedule so that he'd catch her in the mess hall at dinner, or wait, picking at his dextro rations, craning his neck at the sound of every pair of footsteps on the stairs, curious to see if they belonged to __her__. How every time the team met in the comm room, the pit of his stomach would flip when she agreed with his comments and analysis. Of course he'd wanted her approval back then... back then he'd have described it as fascination, or honest admiration – now it seemed more like he had been in denial of his infatuation.

Fast forward to the present, and Shepard was questioning him about it outright, but why? The investigator in him couldn't help but suspect the origin of those questions. But it was unclear why she would suddenly begin to wonder about such things...

Looking down at the woman beside him, there were, as he suspected, no answers in her soft breaths. Her sleep had become fitful - unknowable dreams causing her arms and legs to twitch, her eye lids to flicker. Did she still dream of her death? Did she dream of prothean nightmares or of the ghosts of the souls lost under her command? Did she dream of skies darkening with reapers, bent on destroying any hope for the future?

As he had done many times before, he placed a large hand on her bare shoulder and waited until she settled. Rolling to the edge of the bed, he gave his sleeping lover a long look over his shoulder, before tugging on his clothes and quietly heading to the elevator to walk the ship.

Deck two was hushed, as was expected in the wake of the celebrations. Garrus considered checking in on Mordin and his yahg specimen, but based on their last conversation, he decided against it. Instead, he hit the elevator control and headed to deck three. There was chatter in the mess hall, and as he rounded the corner he found Jack, Kasumi, Tali and Jacob playing cards, with Legion sitting nearby, watching. Garrus gave them a polite nod as he headed for the kitchenette to search for something warm to drink.

"We do not understand why creator Tali Zora would not play her-"

"LEGION," Tali slammed her cards down on the table, "I told you to keep your big flashlight head off my cards. This is why you're not allowed to play!"

"Yeah, you cheat," Jack added grumpily.

"We do not cheat," Legion stated with what could only be described as indignation.

"Hey, Garrus, you want us to deal you in?" Jack asked the turian as he slid into one of the seats with a mug of the dextro equivalent of hot cider – if you could even call the concentrated drink mix that.

"No, that's alright," he answered as he sipped his drink. The troubled biotic shrugged indifferently, before taking a long drink of the strong smelling, clear spirit in the tall bottle she had perched next to her pack of cigarettes. His visor translated the human characters - vodka. "I'd just end up taking everyone's credits, so it's best I just watch," Garrus added.

"Oh is that so!" Tali scoffed, tossing a card into the pile on the table, "I seem to recall you having a serious losing streak on the old Normandy."

"I've become significantly better at cards since then."

Everyone at the table was giving him overly sarcastic nods and snickers, but Garrus just shrugged at them. He cast a curious glance at the geth, who was still watching the game intently.

"I bet you and EDI have lots to talk about."

Legion's eye flaps wiggled. "EDI does not approve of discussing many aspects of crew behaviour," the geth answered, "she feels it is inappropriate."

"That doesn't stop the rest of us," Jacob muttered and Kasumi, who Garrus realized looked like she'd been blown out the airlock then sucked back in, snorted in agreement. It was probably a safe assumption that she'd had too many of those slushy red drinks and was too ashamed to ask Chakwas for something to relieve her hangover.

"How are you feeling Kasumi?" Garrus asked innocently as he sipped his beverage. The thief gave him a sarcastic smirk and stuck out her tongue.

Just as Garrus was preparing a cheeky response, there was some hardy laughter from down the hall. Kasumi tossed down a card and leaned back in her chair. "Grunt and Zaeed have certainly warmed up to each other." She shrugged at the questioning look Garrus was giving her. "Zaeed has been telling the kid 'war stories' for the past two hours."

There was a loud thump, and more laughs, and Garrus was praying he wouldn't be expected to check on them.

"Thankfully they are both in too much of a stupor from their boozing to be much of a problem if there was to be a... disagreement." Jacob assured him, seeing the way the turian fidgeted in his chair.

"Yeah I'll be glad to get off of this death trap. Fucking tired of seeing all your faces," Jack spat bitterly.

"Oh Jack, we love you too." Tali chuckled. Jack frowned without comment, which was impressive really.

"So how are you getting back to Palaven, Garrus? Doubt Shepard can get the Normandy that far into Citadel Space undetected. Perhaps she'll do a flyby of Illium..." the quarian chuckled, "maybe slow down just enough for us to jump out the airlock." Jacob and Kasumi laughed at the idea and quickly made a sport of coming up with various ways they could make it from the ship to the planet without the Normandy stopping to dock. Their theories should have been humourous, but Garrus was too distracted by Tali's question to find their joking amusing.

"Palaven?" Garrus finally repeated as the quarian's words sank in. Tali glanced up at him, and through the lavender mask, he wondered if it was uncertainty he saw on her face.

"Yeah Garrus, your name was on the manifest." Jacob chimed in, his voice still holding a hint of a smile, though his attention had returned to his cards. "Tell you the truth, I really didn't expect you to want to go back so soon."

There was a longer than acceptable silence, which was enough to cause the armoury officer to glance around the table.

"Well, I haven't quite decided," Garrus lied as he stared into his drink, trying to keep his voice nonchalant. He wasn't sure how convincing he sounded, though apparently it was enough to satisfy everyone at the table because their eyes returned to their cards.

The game continued, with only the occasional interruption from Legion, which predictably sent Tali's cards to the table in dramatic fashion as she repeatedly scolded him. Garrus had observed it all in stoic silence, secretly stunned and lost in thought. He had only skimmed over the datapad he had hand delivered to Shepard... he'd read the first few names and destinations, but he'd never made it far enough down the list to reach "V". She'd made sure of that.

It was impossible for him to resolve in his mind why Shepard, his best friend and mate, the person he trusted above all others, would make this sort of decision without his input. Eventually, the conversation around the table returned to anecdotal chatter, and Garrus slipped away quietly and headed back up to deck one.

Shepard was still fast asleep when he entered her quarters and stealthily slid into the chair at her desk. He reached for the datapad, but a quick glance told him it had been wiped. Checking to make sure she was still asleep, he turned his attention to her private terminal.

Password protected of course.

He stared at the blank space that patiently awaited the input of her passcode, his hands hovering over haptic keyboard expectantly, but nothing was coming to mind.

There was a sound from the bed, and Garrus looked past the holographic display to the sleeping woman. Dreams had a hold on her again - head moving, soft features contorted in an expression he couldn't quite name as her hands grasped at the sheets. Standing, he hovered at the top of the stairs, waiting to see if he should intervene. When she gasped he descended the stair, intent on comforting her, but before he could reach her she woke with a start.

"Shepard," she gasped, trying to blink away her disorientation as she realized her surroundings. Garrus frowned. Had Shepard just woken from a nightmare saying her own name?

Her groggy eyes registered him frozen at the bottom of the stairs as she took a shaky breath to collect herself.

"Bad dreams?" he asked softly and she nodded. "About?" he coaxed, but she shook her head, leaning back in the bed and staring up at the ceiling. Garrus glanced over his shoulder at the open terminal, then back at his lover. He needed to know.

"Shepard... does the crew departure list say I'm heading to Palaven?"

She didn't answer right away, her eyes blinking as she stared up at the ceiling. Eventually she twisted her head on the pillow so she could look at him, nodding slightly.

"Yes."

His mandibles pressed against his cheeks as he tried to suppress the spike of pain he felt in his chest. "But I have made no such request."

"I know," Shepard answered quietly as she sat up, pulling the sheets around her, "but Garrus, eventually you won't be able to come with me. You'll be arrested as an accessory in the murder of that spectre, and possibly as my accomplice working for Cerberus. You'll do so much more good on your own. Beside, your family needs you."

"You can't order me to leave Shepard, I won't. You can strip me of whatever imaginary Cerberus rank I have, but you can't just send me away."

"I can and I will," she was trying to be forceful, but her voice lacked much of its usual authority while she was still in bed, her hair all bunched up on one side and her eyes partially closed. Still, he could tell that she meant it - her words were breaking his heart and she knew it. It was apparent in the way she could barely look at him, her eyes finding a comfortable point to focus on somewhere in the fish tank. Garrus dropped his eyes to the floor, struggling to come to terms with what she was demanding. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. "You would stay with me? Be arrested and condemned as my accomplice? Sit at my hearing, visit me in my cell?"

"You know I would," he said desperately, taking a step towards her.

"And what good would you be... to me? To your family? Or to the galaxy, if you are locked up too?"

"Don't do this. Don't try to sway me with logic. I told you already that I won't leave you. You'll have to fill me full of bullets or blast me out an airlock before I'd let that happen."

"Don't say that," she whispered harshly, as though some malevolent deity might hear his wish and make it come true. "This is not up for debate."

"How can you just sit there and order me to do this? You may be my commanding officer, out there," he pointed an angry finger at her cabin door, "But in here, when it's just you and me... we're a __team__ and we do things __together__." Garrus dropped his head and tried to calm himself. When he looked back up she was staring down at the crumpled sheets that lay twisted around her. "I already lost you once, and now you expect me to willingly give you up a second time? Do you have... __any idea__... what you're asking? "

"And what if I don't want you to see me?" she looked up into his eyes and he could see the war of emotion there. "What if the idea of you seeing me in shackles and disgraced in front of my entire species, and the galaxy, is something that I couldn't possibly bear?" Garrus sighed, closing the distance between them and sitting down on the bed. Her green eyes were searching his face for some hint of understanding as she folded her legs beneath her and reached for him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. His hands found her back as she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his. "You are the only thing in this life that has brought me any real sense of love and happiness. Please... please do this for me." Her voice had softened, and she almost sounded as though she were pleading. "This is the best way."

Pulling her closer, her cheek felt impossibly smooth as she pressed it against the scarred side of his face. Garrus squeezed his eyes shut, the pain in his chest causing his jaw to tighten and his teeth to grind. There was no way he would be able to change her mind, and he knew it. He thought about all the silly, ridiculous thoughts he'd had about them, about their future. Those words he had whispered in his fantasy, words he wished he could say to her in real life.

"Come with me," he murmured against her hair.

He could feel the muscles in her face move as she spoke, the soft vibration of her voice felt through the hands he had pressed against her back and the mandible touching her neck. "You know I have to return to Earth."

"Come with me to Palaven... spend a few days with me and then... then you can return to the Normandy... without me... and do what you have to do."

"That doesn't make any sense, Garrus. Even if we made it that far into Citadel Space with the Normandy's stealth systems, this ship is not my private taxi... besides, we would never make it planet side without being shot out of the sky."

"Liara can forge you some documents and I have a ship."

She leaned away from him so she could look him in the eye. Her scepticism was palpable as her mouth opened and shut in confusion. Frowning, she tried again.

"You... have a ship?"

He nodded, grasping her hands. "It's obvious I can't change your mind, but why not a compromise? Give me three days Shepard."

"But my presence could endanger your family."

"My family will be fine. You know Dad was a high ranking C-Sec investigator, and Sol spent time off world as a disaster relief worker." He sighed, not sure what else he could say that would convince her. "Palaven can't possibly be the most dangerous place you'll have ever visited... and if the future really is as bleak as it seems, don't you think we at least deserve some time together before it ends?"

"I don't know Garrus," she looked down at her hands, obviously trying to justify his request.

"Please," his large talons wrapped around her small fingers. "Please?" he repeated, and she sighed reluctantly.

"Alright," she finally whispered, and it was clear she was agreeing despite what her better judgement was telling her. "I'll go with you."

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__He was taking too long. __

__Archangel leaned back against the grimy wall, shrouded in an inky darkness that affording him a safe position to scan the cluttered Omega alley with his visor, while simultaneously rereading the message Sidonis had sent. He frowned. The message sounded uncharacteristically desperate... __

__But he was in the right place... so where was his teammate?__

__The sound of creaking metal sent the turian's eyes upward to the dilapidated series of walkways that crisscrossed the alley above him. Holding his breath, he listened quietly for a few beats, but after several moments without any movement or sound, he released the air in his lungs and turned his attention back to his omni tool. If Sidonis didn't show up in the next few minutes he was going to have to get a few members of the team together for a search...__

__Another metallic clank echoed down the alley and Archangel laid a cautious hand on his pistol as he took a step farther back in to the darkness.__

__"He's not coming," came a familiar voice. The armoured turian spun around to face its source.__

__Aria.__

__The formidable asari stepped out of the shadows, flanked by two of her armed henchmen, guns at the ready. __

__"I didn't think our next meeting was until tomorrow," Archangel remarked casually, trying not to draw attention to the way his hand twitched anxiously above his sidearm. __

__"I don't think that meeting will be happening," Aria replied with aloof disappointment, whether it was real or simply for effect, it was impossible to say. She calmly stepped out of the shadows and into the harsh light filtering down into the alley. Garrus felt his stomach tie itself in knots. If it came to it, there was no way he would be able to reach for his gun before they'd have him riddled with bullets. Aria must have seen him tense because she gave him what was possibly a sad smile. "I'm not here to kill you Archangel. In fact I've enjoyed your... company... and your services the past few months. You're far more interesting than most of the riff raff I have to deal with." She gave her henchmen a casual wave, and they reluctantly lowered their guns. "No, unfortunately it seems it is time for us to say goodbye."__

__"What do you mean?"__

__"Omega has turned on you, just as I predicted it would. If you want to live, you should leave now and put as much distance between you and this station as you can."__

__"What the hell are you talking about?" Garrus growled as he came forward and met her in the middle of the alley. Her guards reached for their weapons, but she stilled them with a raised hand. Leaning forward, her breath was warm as she spoke just loudly enough so that only he could hear. __

__"They're already dead, Garrus. If you go back now, it would be suicide."__

__It hadn't even registered with him that she had used his real name, or to wonder how she had found him so easily in Omega's labyrinth of alleys - only that she was suggesting something terrible was happening that very moment. Her eyes told him she was telling the truth, and although he could conjure a million possible scenarios and motives for her to deceive him, he knew she was not. Eyes widening in realization, he turned and ran. __

__As he disappeared back into Omega's rat holes, Aria called out after him. "Don't throw your life away Archangel!"__

__But it didn't matter.__

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

"Ah, Shepard, you survived!" the familiar old krogan called out from his stone throne as he watched his former teammates climb the rubble up to where he was sitting. "I assume you crushed your enemy?"

"Only as much as was necessary," Shepard explained with an exaggerated flourish and Wrex let out a hardy laugh as he rose and gave her an affectionately rough slap on the shoulder. "How about you Wrex? You holding things together down here?"

"As well as can be expected," the scarred clan leader lamented as he sat back down on his throne. "Trying to tell a krogan that there is honour and glory in farming and rebuilding a broken society is as hard as it sounds." Wrex's gaze drifting to the young krogan and pensive turian standing at Shepard's side - he offered them a casual nod.

"Whelp, have you learned from your battlemaster?"

"I have," Grunt answered, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Good, then let's see you kill something. " He nodded towards the gun set up at the far end of the rubble strewn complex.

"Give me a minute, I'll show him" Shepard offered.

"She should have been born a krogan," Wrex huffed as they watched the comparatively small woman lead Grunt down to the mass accelerator cannon, Urz trotting along behind them.

"Then she wouldn't have been Shepard," Garrus answered, giving Wrex a sideways glance.

The leader of clan Urdnot only grunted, his eyes narrowing as he watched the young, high strung krogan take control of the cannon and begin blasting away.

"Grunt will not be like the other krogan." Wrex leaned forward in his seat, still watching. "Okeer may have filled his mind with memories, but Shepard has given him experience. He has imprinted on her, will have absorbed her reasoning and strategies..."

Garrus smirked. What a disturbed family they had, he thought to himself. If Grunt was Shepard's 'son', did that make him his father? Family reunions were destined to be awkward.

Garrus was thankful that Shepard had been kind enough not to drag him to the krogan homeworld on her previous trips, but it seemed now she couldn't quite help herself. The moment they had arrived, Garrus could feel the masses of suspicious and more notably, blood thirsty eyes watching him from all directions. No doubt every krogan in the complex would have enjoyed tearing him to pieces. What sort of turian goes to the krogan homeworld? One with a death wish... or maybe one following Shepard – though those two things were fairly synonymous at this point. It was clear Wrex's authority and Shepard's reputation where the only reasons why he'd get to leave with his fringe intact.

And dammit, he liked his fringe.

Shepard had a fairly sick sense of humour - that he was sure of.

"I'll admit I miss rolling around the galaxy with Shepard... how's it been?" Wrex mused.

"Just like old times, minus the hours spent trying to keep the mako in some semblance of working order."

"I thought that sort of mindless menial labour would appeal to an anal turian such as yourself."

Garrus laughed. "Clearly __you__ haven't changed much."

There was a howl from across the interior of the ruin that was clan Urdnot's stronghold. The accelerator cannon tilted back as Grunt's arms went over his head in celebration. Shepard gave him a hard, congratulatory slap on the shoulder while Urz dutifully darted out to gather what was left of the blasted pyjaks, stuffing three carcasses in his mouth before dropping the mangled bodies at Shepard's feet. Garrus felt something warm in his stomach as he watched her rub the animal's head affectionately, the varren prancing around her happily. Unfortunately, his quiet observations hadn't gone unnoticed. When he glanced at Wrex, the krogan was giving him a very level look.

"That's one hell of a scar, Garrus. Didn't your mom ever tell you not to stick your face into the shuttle exhaust?"

The turian scoffed and folded his arms defensively. "Did you even have a mother?"

The krogan laughed. "Why so hostile turian? Shepard not rubbing your belly enough?" Wrex was wearing his typical self-satisfied expression as he shifted on his throne, "tell you the truth, I never thought you'd grow the balls."

"I wasn't aware you were waiting for me to do so, because you're about twenty eight years too late."

The krogan ignored the turian's comment and continued, completely unfazed. "I never did understand why anyone would take a mate of a different species. Then again I'm looking at it from the point of view of a species in steep decline."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Wrex."

"Oh come off it. I can practically smell the pheromones from orbit."

For some reason, Garrus couldn't bear to look at his former team mate, instead choosing to focus his attention on Shepard as she chatted with the merchant. She was smiling as she bought treats for the varren still hopping around at her feet.

"Are we really that obvious?" he finally muttered distractedly.

"A krogan's nose doesn't lie," Wrex replied almost thoughtfully, tapping his tiny flared nostrils. "Hope you haven't bit off more than you can chew..." he smiled at his own cleverness and Garrus rolled his eyes. "From what I know about turians, isn't your family going to want to skin you alive?"

"Very likely."

"Ha! If you were a colonial I'd guess you'd probably be in the clear, but those Palaven types - got their noses stuck up so high you can see the great cavernous voids in their skulls." Garrus sighed warily, knowing that there was no use arguing with Wrex. The old krogan chuckled. "The Commander has faced worse dangers than your family, Garrus. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

"You haven't met my father."

"I killed my father," Wrex said proudly. Garrus crossed his arms and shook his head.

"I have no plans for patricide."

They were quiet for a moment, and Garrus felt a noticeable shift in the krogan's demeanour.

"You think these reapers are really coming?" Wrex finally asked, the tone of his voice noticeably more serious. Garrus gave him a grave look.

"I'd stake my life on it."

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__There was a group of three Eclipse mercs huddled around the door control, two of them had their omni tools raised as they attempted to decode the lock. They didn't notice the armoured turian rushing up behind them, expanding his assault rifle as he plucked it from his back. There was a moment of recognition on the merc's faces before the disguised turian's concussive shot dropped the three intruders to the ground. He was close enough to hit the first two with enough bullets to bring down their shields and end their lives, the third he hit with the butt of his rifle before pressing the end of it to the surprised man's forehead, bypassing his shields as he finished him execution style. __

__Bursts of gunfire could be heard even before he had even made it through the basement's second blast door. Slamming his fist against the security control, he took the stairs three at a time, assault rifle in hand, as he launched himself onto the main floor. He barely had time to take in the chaotic scene before a loud thud followed by an explosion sent him instinctually to the ground. When he opened his eyes, he stared from behind the protection of his helmet and through bits of falling debris, into the dead eyes of Sensat, his salarian team mate. __

__"Archie!" The frantic yell from across the room sent Garrus rolling past the body and scrambling along the wall, ducking his head beneath the smattering of weapons fire that pinged and ricocheted above him. A few more scurried steps brought him to his teammate's side, where he dug himself in against the wall. __

__"Butler!" His voice was gruff and muffled through his helmet, the man's name coming out as an exclamation as his brain tried to comprehend what was happening. __

__"We never saw it coming," the man choked out, his face and hands pale. "We didn't know if it was Blue Suns or Eclipse at first... Weaver and Vortash were on watch when the mercs started shooting rockets through the windows." The man gasped, he eyes closing against the spasm of pain that over took him. Garrus put a hand on his leg and Butler took a shaky breath. "There must have been thirty of them..." As he listened, Garrus' eyes travelled down to where Butler was desperately clutching at the bloody mess of mangled armour which was barely covering what was left of his arm. Red stretched out around him in a wide arc, mingling with the blue blood of the dead turian merc next to him to create an inky purple.__

__This couldn't be happening.__

__Garrus grunted as he popped out of cover, spraying the Omega terrain with bullets as he tried to locate the few remaining enemies. Sliding back down into cover, he turned to his friend, noting with considerable worry how the smear of blood across his cheek was already beginning to dry."We have to get everyone out of here." He was trying to sound calm, though inside he was a flurry of questions and desperate actions. __

__"No one's left but me and__ __Melanis, though I haven't seen him since he went upstairs," the injured man explained as Garrus reached out to apply medigel to his arm. Butler shook his head feebly. "Don't bother. It's much worse than it looks." Moving his arm, he revealed the large hole in his armoured torso and the charred flesh beneath. "Sorry Archie, but I'm not going to be leaving this place."__

__"Fuck..." Garrus answered with utter dismay, tossing the medigel aside in frustration and gritting his teeth as he finally took the time to absorb the mess of bodies that surrounded them. That's when he saw it, the body of a Blue Sun slumped over an Eclipse – and a dead vorcha with Blood Pack colours nearby. He had never believed it would come to this – that the major players of Omega's mercenary bands would finally agree on something. __

__That something turned out to be him. __

__"It was a set up, they knew exactly when the watch was changing, where our blind spots were – probably figured they'd take us out and then ambush you when you returned..." Butler grunted with pain, "It's only a matter of time before they come back to finish the job. Archangel... you need to-" the man's words caught in his throat, "need to-".__

__"Butler..." Garrus laid a gentle hand on the man's shoulder, trying to calm him. "You don't have to call me that anymore. My name was Garrus... Vakarian. I'm ex C-Sec, and for a brief time I was a member of Commander Shepard's team."__

__"You took down Saren," the human gasped, his words choked with blood. The turian nodded and Butler gave him a weak smile, "God, I can't believe Melanis won the pool." Coughing out a partial laugh, he reached out and placed a bloodied hand into the gloved grip of his commander. "It was truly an honour... Garrus. You empowered us, you gave our lives meaning..." Butler whispered as his head began to droop, and although Garrus grabbed his teammate's shoulders, desperately trying to keep him conscious, his friend's eyes slid back into his head, it was clear Garrus had returned too late.__

__A small burst of gun fire made the turian flinch, reminding him that there were mercs still wanting his blood. Switching to his sniper rifle, he emerged from cover with a terrible yell. The two remaining mercs that had been desperately firing from where they had been pinned down during the attack, peeked out to see the source of such a blood curdling roar. It was all the opportunity the turian needed. As his last shot echoed off the walls of the warehouse, the final merc slumped to the ground with a heavy thud and the stillness set in. Looking around at the bodies of his friends, the rifle slipped from Garrus' fingers, the sound of it clattering to the floor, deafening.__

__The full weight of this new reality brought him to his knees. His hands went to his face and he tore off his helmet and hurled it across the room, pressing his gloved hand into his eyes. Surrounded by a crowd of breathless lungs, Garrus had never felt more alone. __

"__Dammit Shepard, what am I supposed to do now?" he asked the emptiness, but there was no response. __

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

It had quickly become apparently that a drop on Illium would be impossible. In fact, one of the only safe places the Normandy could dock was Omega, which had been their final destination anyway. He had left Shepard at the airlock, where she had been saying goodbye to members of the crew and team as they disembarked. Of the team, only Tali, Mordin and Jacob had requested to remain on board until Shepard made her final approach to Alliance space. Legion and Joker had been working with EDI on a way to safe guard her program against any attempts by the Alliance to shut her down – Shepard had called it playing possum. Legion had offered EDI a way out, a chance to join the geth collective. But she had insisted on staying onboard the ship. As for the rest of the team, only Jacob had agreed to accompany Shepard on the final leg of the trip back to Alliance space, prepared to accept whatever judgement awaited him.

Omega was, as always, in a state of partially controlled chaos. Its dirty, red light district twilight smelled exactly as it always had, accentuated by sketchy looking guns for hire and the occasional vorcha. Garrus thought it kind of ironic that his disguise on the station had gone from full armour and helmet to plain clothes and no visor. Archangel was dead, and Garrus was just another beat up turian walking the slums – he had to keep reminding himself not to walk with such authority, as it drew unnecessary attention.

There was really only one person who knew him, and she probably had better things to do than search for dead vigilantes. Shepard on the other hand would be easily recognizable, so it had been decided that she should take on a disguise, one that would at least hide her face. Putting her in a quarian enviro-suit had been one idea, but it really didn't seem all that practical. In addition to her disguise, Garrus was plotting a route through back alleys that would take them around each major nexus held by Aria's goons.

Deftly navigated his way through security access points and maintenance shortcuts, he eventually arrived at the private dock where he'd paid to store his ship.

Garrus passed his fake ID, the same one Liara had made for him almost a year earlier, to the turian seated at the administration desk. The clerk gave it an uninterested look as he verified it and waved Garrus through. It was clear the dock had seen more prosperous days, though he didn't recall it looking quite so run down when he'd last seen it several months earlier. The dirty corridor was congested with crates and the clump of wires hanging from the partially opened service grate in the ceiling fittingly complimented the chipped walls and grungy floors.

Stopping at his assigned airlock, Garrus' eyes stared up at the bright holographic numbers above the door as they flickered sickly. The airlock looked to be in a terrible state of disrepair, and Garrus held his breath as he punched in the door code. A beep, and deep rumble, and finally Garrus let out a sigh of relief as the door finally shuddered open to reveal the sealed door of the Lixos Dra. Stepping inside, he began the airlock cycle, which caused more unsettling sounds, including a worrisome fizz and clank before the door to the ship finally slid open.

The air inside was stale, so after setting down the small container of levo rations Shepard would need on Palaven, and the bag he had slung over his shoulder containing the modest amount of clothing he owned, he settled into the pilot seat. Punching in the start up codes, the main console came to life and the soft whir of the main systems kicking in filled the silence.

He glanced around, giving the ship a quick once over to make sure there wasn't anything unsightly laying about. Satisfied, he heading back out through the private dock and out into the busy corridor. Though he was intent on getting back to the Normandy, something caught his attention. The ex C-Sec officer in him couldn't help but notice the group of well armed batarians exiting the warehouse of a well known weapons dealer in the district. Their chatter was anxious, and Garrus casually wandered over to the tupari vending machine so he could listen in.

"The bounty is already at fifty million credits."

"Are you sure she's here?" one of them hissed.

"Yes." The largest batarian gave Garrus a suspicious look as the turian opened the cold drink he had just purchased. Garrus knew his scars meant he couldn't quite pull off the innocent civilian act, so he made sure to keep that side of his face turned away from them. The large batarian continued, his voice dropping, "The Normandy docked less than an hour ago."

"What are we going to do? Shoot our way onto the ship? And Shepard-"

"Shepard is just a woman. If we can separate her from her companions, the six of us can easily take her."

"It'll be a long ride back to batarian space for her." One of them smiled lewdly and a few of the others expressed their own interest in that particular scenario with some obscene gestures. Garrus felt his hands tighten around the energy drink; forcing himself to turn away from the group and head back to the ship was real test of his self control.

As he approached the Normandy's docking bay, he spotted Thane walking away from the airlock. The drell was taking slow but steady steps towards him. Even from a distance, it was clear his teammate was leaving under obvious duress.

"Are you the last one off the ship?" Garrus asked, looking back over his shoulder to see if the batarians had followed him.

"I am," Thane replied, following the turian's gaze with subtle caution, "are you expecting someone?"

Garrus shook his head. "Look Thane..." He placed a gloved hand on the drell's shoulder. "I just want to say... It's been a real honour to fight by your side. You're a good man, and a hell of a shot. I just want you to know that I take solace in the knowledge that if I hadn't made it off Omega you would have been there for Shepard. I appreciate that, all you've done."

"I know she's in good hands, and that is enough." Thane gave Garrus a thoughtful look, his dark eyes revealing only a hint of his internal struggle. "May you walk with the sun on your back and your feet on solid ground."

The dying man raised a hand and squeezed the turian's shoulder, bowing his head slightly as he stepped past him. Garrus turned to watch as the drell walked away, until he eventually disappeared around the corner and into Omega's labyrinth.

It was not an easy thing to abandon something that you love . Thane loved Shepard, and Garrus knew it - could see it in his every action, every word and movement. He recognized the quality and strength of character in the drell, respected the lonely path he was destined to walk.

They had parted ways as equals, and with the understanding that it was Garrus who would walk by Shepard's side during the end of days.

Voices from behind him turned his head. Shepard and Mordin had appeared outside the Normandy's airlock, and it seemed the salarian was in quiet an excited state – pushing things into Shepard's hands. Even from where he stood, Garrus could hear snippets of the lecture she was getting. He cast one more glance over his shoulder before heading over to meet them.

"Keep your face and head covered, disguise on Omega, but protection from the sun on Palaven. Stay-out-of-the-sun," Mordin emphasized with a long waggling finger."And lotions, every five hours. Complexion too fair for harsh Trebian sun. Oh and this," the salarian pressed a dermal injection into her arm and she flinched in surprise, "for enhanced dextro tolerance. And these, painkillers, lubricants, ointments for..."

"OK ok...Jesus, Mordin..." Shepard was hurriedly stuffing the items into her bag with noticeable embarrassment.

"Assume Vakarians are conservative turians, be careful. May not warm up to new human daughter in law..."

Shepard gave the salarian a stunned look, and Garrus took the opportunity to play the gentlemen and intervene.

"Are we ready to go?" he asked and Mordin looked as though he were about to answer when he suddenly reached for his gun.

Garrus and Shepard turned to face the sudden commotion from down the hall, following the line of sight from Mordin's pistol to the group of batarian bounty hunters Garrus had encountered earlier. They had either spotted Shepard's blonde head or they had convinced themselves they could storm the docked ship. It must have been tempting, especially considering it must have appeared as though it were only being 'guarded' by three plain clothed individuals.

Of course those three plain clothed individuals had pistols concealed on their hips, next to their portable shield generators. Mordin had already taken out one batarian by the time Shepard and Garrus had their weapon's drawn. It took only a few more shots for two more to fall. The last three knew enough to run while they still could.

They waited a few moments until they were satisfied their attackers had actually retreated. Mordin holstered his gun and continued to speak as if nothing of interest had just occurred. "Normandy will assume low orbit at specified coordinates. Will wait for Shepard's return."

Garrus shook the salarian's hand, which seemed like an oddly human gesture for them to share. Shepard gave Mordin a hug, which he surprisingly took in stride. Their farewell was a mixture of nods and partial words, as there was really nothing appropriate to say. They began their walk from the ship, and Garrus noticed Shepard casting a look over her shoulder as they stepped over the fallen batarians. The airlock door was closing, Mordin having already disappeared inside the ship. Shepard wrapped the cloth hood over her head and across her face as they exited the dock and began down a narrow corridor that began the back alley route Garrus had mapped out for them.

"I hope you didn't forget anything," Shepard mused, her voice muffled by the scarf she pulled closer around her face. The cloth hung loosely over her head, hiding her blonde hair and covering all but her nose and eyes. The thigh length coat she wore over her civilian clothing helped to hide her well toned frame, but only barely. A bag was flung over her shoulder, and Garrus had attempted to relieve her of it without success.

As they passed a row of dirty, orange tinted windows there was a low rumble, and they both turned to see the Normandy tip away from them, her engines glowing as the ship pull away from the station and headed for their future rendezvous point. Shepard rubbed a hand against the window, the decades of dirt smearing as she watched the frigate disappear amidst the glowing points of ships and stars.

"I guess we're on our own now," she murmured, her eyes staring at the point where the Normandy had vanished from view.

"Come on," he coaxed and she hesitated for a moment before taking the hand he offered and continuing on down the dimly lit passage. Through a few security doors, and down a long corridor, they finally emerged into a busy walkway. Weaving through the mingling crowds and past busy restaurants, they eventually reached a set of large doors. On the other side of them, the bustle outside was barely audible. The same turian Garrus had seen earlier was still sitting behind the administration desk. Although his attention was directed towards the cranky salarian who was giving him an earful about fuel costs, he seemed anxious for any sort of distraction. It was clear he recognized Garrus from earlier, but instead of his previous aloof disinterest, the clerk gave Garrus a skewed twitch of his mandibles as he scanned their ID.

It was a warning, but Shepard hadn't caught it. In fact she was already heading through the door, walking with unbridled authority - as though she were decked out in her armour and had more than just the concealed M-5 Phalanx on her hip. Garrus rushed to stop her, reaching out to grab her arm, but she was just out of reach. When she stopped suddenly, he bumped clumsily into the back of her.

"Garrus Vakarian, alive and well I see." It was the last voice Garrus had wanted to hear, and he looked past the woman in front of him to see a familiar asari blocking their path. Shepard gave Garrus a quick glance, and he realized she was wisely staying quiet. "Looks like Shepard succeeded in dragging your ass out of that burning rat hole after all. Tell me, did Sidonis get what was coming to him?"

"Aria," Garrus replied casually, disregarding her comments as he stepped in front of Shepard protectively.

"I didn't expect to see you back on Omega so soon..."

"Oh you know, I was really starting to miss this place... with its rich cultural sights and galaxy renowned cuisine – Who could stay away?" Garrus hoped Aria still appreciated his particular breed of charm.

"Cute." Aria smirked. "Does your list of activities include tangling with the locals? Because there was an incident only a few moments ago... seems a novice band of batarians thought they might collect on that bounty that's been placed on Shepard's head." The asari drawled out the words as she stepped closer to the turian, her armed escort standing at the ready behind her. They were, of course, just for show. Aria's biotic power was well known, and rightly feared. Her icy gaze drifted past him, coming to rest on the woman he was attempting to block from view.

"That was foolish of them." Garrus replied, trying to bring Aria's attention back to him while simultaneously attempting to quell his suddenly racing heart.

"It was," she agreed, her attention returning to the turian. "Unfortunately, the Normandy had departed by the time I arrived," she frowned, but somehow it seemed unconvincing. "It's rather unfortunate - I would have liked to collect that fifty million credit prize."

"I bet."

Aira's eyes narrowed. "To be honest though, I suspect Shepard may still be on the station..."

At this point, Garrus was beginning to wonder if Aria was just toying with them. Even though Shepard was fairly well disguised, he knew there was very little that happened on the station that Aria wasn't completely aware of.

"The batarians would never pay out that kind of money. It's just a ruse to get the Commander killed."

"Perhaps," Aria mused, "perhaps not." She stepped to the side, once again eyeing the robed woman who had been watching the scene mutely. "And here you are, returning to this scrap heap you call a ship with this small and fragile... human woman?"

Garrus responded, almost too quickly. "I am escorting her to Eden Prime... as a favour."

"Escorting?" Aria repeated the word suggestively, her brow pinching. "You know, I could hold you here. I'm sure Shepard would come back for the two of you, pay whatever ransom I want... " Her threat was disguised in the light hearted inflection she forced on her voice. "In fact, there is still a hefty bounty on your head as well... Archangel." His old moniker slid from her lips in a soft whisper. She touched a finger to her chin thoughtfully as she considered her next move.

It wasn't surprising that Shepard was unable to stay quiet - the fact that she'd lasted as long as she had was impressive. Clearly she had come to the conclusion that Aria knew perfectly well who she was, and that no amount of smooth talking on Garrus' part was going to get them out of their predicament. The only thing that was certain was that they were in a great deal of danger.

"How much?" Shepard finally asked, and Aria gave her a satisfied smile.

"Oh I think one hundred thousand credits should buy your freedom."

Shepard opened her omni tool without comment and began to transfer the credits.

"Perhaps you're right... Shepard has most likely already left the station. Besides, taking her alive would be a chore. As for the shit storm I'm sure is following in her wake, you can pass on the message that Shepard can make up for it at a later date." Her eyes drifted from Shepard back to the turian, and she took an aggressive step towards him, pressing a blue finger against his chest. "You, on the other hand, failed to show up at our last meeting." Aria's voice dropped as she leaned in. Garrus stiffened at her sudden proximity and the heavy tension that filled the air around them. He could feel Shepard watching them intently, ready to at any moment unleash hell.

__It's not worth it Shepard, don't say anything__ he repeated desperately in his head. He was well versed in the asari's mind games, but Shepard's human nature was reactionary, and dangerous. It was an uneasy situation.

Aria leaned in closer, her cheek coming close to the scarred side of his face, her warm breath near his ear. "I told you I'd kill you if you missed one of our meetings, but..." she paused to make stress her point and to make sure she had caught Shepard's attention. "I think this is much more effective, Archangel," she hissed under her breath before dragging her tongue across his scarred mandible and upper lip. Garrus stood frozen in place, stunned and unable to turn away. He knew this was the price he had to pay for leaving Omega without paying his dues. For Aria it was entirely about power, over him and Shepard. Fighting back or even flinching would have been the excuse she needed to tear them both apart.

When the asari stepped back, she gave them both uninterested looks before she signalled for her guards to follow her out. "Perhaps I will see you again," she said over her shoulder, her final words coated thick with false, lighthearted charm. "Be sure to give Shepard my regards."

Bewildered, Garrus wiped away the saliva from his face before giving Shepard an uncertain look. She seemed just as taken aback, and he took the opportunity to tug the bag off her shoulder and sling it over his own. He nodded toward the corridor and they continued to weave their way past the crates and under the tangle of wires to their destination. Pressing his finger against the door access, there was a hollow thump and squeak as the door opened. Stepping inside the airlock, Garrus tapped at the controls to begin the decontamination cycle. There was an uncharacteristic silence before the console beeped in error and he hit it hard with his fist, letting an untranslatable curse slip out as he did so.

"You'll have to teach me that one," Shepard murmured, giving the small room a rarely seen look of concern as the lights flickered. With a slight rumble, the cycle started and Shepard pulled the cloth off her head with relief.

"I figured Aria might make an appearance but..." she shook her head, not really needing to finish her thought. Garrus caught her casting a curious glance out the tiny airlock window to where the side of the ship was partially visible. The light on the control turned from red to green and as he led her onto the ship, he became acutely aware of her increasingly inquisitive looks.

"What kind of ship did you say this was?"

"I didn't say" he quipped, then shrugged, "it's kind of a long story."

She nodded thoughtfully. "How many hours to Palaven?"

"Eleven."

"Well then, I guess we have the time."

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

__With a wary look towards the bridge, the last body was dragged into place, the salarian's arms carefully folded across his chest. Large black eyes stared up at him with an eerie surprise dulled by death, and Archangel gently dragged a gloved hand over his comrade's face to escape it. He folded the brown sheet up over the body before standing to survey his work. Laid out neatly at his feet were two rows of shrouded dead – dead who had once been people he had known, who had entrusted their lives to his leadership.__

__For some reason he couldn't help but count them – one, two, three, four, five... he hadn't been able to get past five before the nausea would stir in his stomach. It didn't matter anyway - after seeing their faces, he knew there was no one left.__

__The only other person unaccounted for was Sidonis. His last message had sounded so desperate... and each time Garrus reread it, it sounded that much worse. What had they done to him? Tortured him until he gave them up? Drugged him, raped him, beat him? Surely his fate had been the worst of all. __

__Garrus' wandering eye caught sight of a blood stained boot and he quickly pulled the sheet more tightly over Meirdin's mangled body and tucked in the edges. Even though their faces were covered and their eyes closed, he could still feel them staring up at him, accusingly. __

__They had been his friends. His family. And like Shepard, he had been unable to protect them.__

__All of them had died with weapons in their hands and fight in their eyes. Surely that meant something. He had always been told that meant something. Now, it seemed meaningless. __

__Reaching back to grab his rifle, Garrus expanded the weapon and stared at it. Just as he had done a hundred times before, he turned it over to look at the spectre emblem engraved just above the trigger. __

__Somehow, Shepard had always had the strength of her beliefs and the fortitude to push on despite each demoralizing landslide she encountered. He knew what she would have done in this situation. The whispers in his head were urging him to leave that tomb of a warehouse – reminding him that if he wanted to fight another day he would have to accept his losses and begin again.__

__Losses had always been expected, and they'd had one early on. But Garrus had never imagined Omega would beat him so severely - taking everything he had and utterly destroying it. __

__There was still time to escape, he could gather his things and slip out through the basement, reach his ship and leave. He glanced over at the sealed door that led to his freedom.__

__Shepard would retreat and regroup. She would recognize that it was tactically unwise to remain. __

__Garrus looked down at the bodies. He was tired of running. Why leave this place when the people he needed to kill would be coming to him? All he needed to do was patiently wait with a ready gun.__

'__But you'll never leave this place alive', the whispers in his head murmured. __

__"They were my responsibility," he said bitterly to the empty room. Turning, he strode to where his helmet still lay on the floor, picked up and slid it over his head with grim determination. "Their deaths will not be in vain." __

__The typically soft voice in his head was insisting that it would be braver to accept defeat and to fight another day, but this voice was at odds with something deeper and more primal. He had failed, and he would accept the consequences. __

__Ignoring the murmurs, he began dumping the contents of several supply crate onto the floor, collecting the dextro stimulant injectors, energy drinks and packages of food rations. He carried the container of supplies up to the dorm, dropping them by the window that faced the long bridge that ran to the entrance of their hideout. He scanned for movement through the scope of his rifle, before leaving to fetch a crate of clips and a good amount of medigel, making sure to double check the basement locks before returning to his perch.__

__"I'm not a damn coward," he mumbled to himself as he rammed home a fresh clip into his rifle and seated himself comfortably by the window. __

'__You're signing your own death warrant,' a familiar voice whispered in his mind. He frowned, rolling his shoulder as he positioned his eye behind the scope. "I died a long time ago, Shepard," Garrus murmured to the empty room, his voice flanging deep with regret. __

__He would wait. If he was lucky he might get a shot at Jaroth, Garm or even Tarak - or at the very least he would take out as much merc scum as he could. And maybe then, when he ran out of clips or energy, perhaps enough people would have died to justify the deaths of his team... his friends.__

__Some part of him already knew he wouldn't be walking away from that place.__

__"I'm sorry Shepard," he whispered under his breath as he spotted a Blue Suns scout on the opposite side of the bridge. A single shot rang out and the merc crumpled to the ground. There were some surprised shouts, and Garrus knew the bees nest had been irreversibly poked.__


	20. Chapter 20

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

CHAPTER 20

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

The hunt was approaching its crescendo. The hum of the ship's engines like the quivering, foamy snorts of galloping horses, their hooves pounding the earth as their riders urged them towards the insistent cries and howls of the hounds.

Except there were no hounds, only the tall tales being told by bounty hunters over rounds of questionable beverages all across the terminus. Crudely woven yarns of how they had almost captured the cunning Commander Shepard, how the massive reward had been well within their reach - only to have their attempts foiled at the last moment by reasons beyond their control.

Kaidan had never been a fan of hunting, although describing the fox hunt to Osaro had won him a modest smile from the reserved turian.

"Ah yes, the thrill of the hunt," the spectre had mused, "the knowledge that your prey is elusive, yet attainable – a challenge laced with hope. In my mind there is nothing more enlivening. Without challenge and hope, we are impotent."

That said a lot about turian culture, Kaidan figured, as he was certain he had heard something similar before. After explaining what a fox was, though, the turian appeared far less impressed.

They had already been on route to Omega when intelligence began to filter in from Council spies. Mercenaries and bounty hunters across the terminus and several other sectors were all a chatter about the bounty on Commander Shepard's head. Whether or not any of them had the balls to actually attempt to collect that bounty was another matter entirely.

After reporting their progress to the council, Osaro had soundly deduced that the backwater station of Omega would be one of the only places Shepard could dock without risking arrest, as it was theorized that she was on good terms with the rock's asari warlord. Originally, the plan had been to arrive before the Normandy and to wait for Shepard to appear, but the reports they were now receiving suggested they were too late.

Their transportation had been provided by the turian military, and thusly the chairs were uncomfortable and the food inedible, for a human at least. When Kaidan had come aboard he had appreciated the offer of a "mug of hot water and a snack", the snack being what appeared to be an emergency levo food ration – though it looked more like a petrified deck of cards. Kaidan had respectfully declined.

The ship had been in transit for several hours already, during which time Kaidan had been provided with various make work activities – a tour of __some__ of the ship, a demonstration of turian combat prowess on the crew deck and of course, several very boring conversations with various doctors, engineers and specialists who seemed to have been specifically instructed to bore his very will to live right out of his soul.

It quickly became apparent that seeing a human up close wasn't something that happened to the turian crew regularly. Perhaps not much shore leave on the Citadel? Since his arrival onboard the Norrulus, Kaidan had caught them more than once watching out of the corners of their dark eyes. It was a terrible feeling, and not one that was easy to get used to – a dozen or more hawks watching with those sharp, penetrating stares.

It reminded him of his previous trips to Palaven... and of course, Solana Vakarian.

Kaidan nodded politely at the turian who had been speaking to him as he was led towards some other minor point of interest on the ship. He was trying to look attentive, but his mind was far away as he glanced down at his omni tool as subtly as he could.

No new messages.

The last time he had seen Solana she had appeared at his temporary office on the Presidium. He'd been caught off guard and had become flustered seeing her standing there, the slender fingers of her gloved hand curling around the edge of the door frame as she silently requested permission to disturb him at work. He'd beckoned her in clumsily, knocking a datapad off his desk in the process. When he'd emerged from beneath his desk after retrieving it, she was sitting quietly in front of him.

She had apologized for showing up unannounced, but Kaidan had dismissed her formality with an embarrassed smile and said it was good to see her again. And he had meant it. When he had left her on Palaven, Solana had requested he update her with any news on her brother, official and otherwise. He should never had agreed, but something inside him assure her he would. Releasing sensitive intel was not possible, but he had found himself sending her bits of info and news whenever he could. As a result, she began sending things back - leads and ideas mostly. Their correspondence had begun as a simple arrangement to exchange information... but it had slowly evolved, bits of their own lives peppering messages of veiled intrigue with bright pinpricks of mundane reality.

Seeing her sitting in front of him on the Citadel, it was as if all those tiny glimpses into Solana's life had opened up and she had stepped right through. He had been a little shocked to see her, thought he really shouldn't have been. Her father had been high up in the chain of command in C-Sec, so he undoubtedly made trips there regularly.

At the time, Kaidan's messages had been frequent, as Garrus was being spotted regularly with the resurrected Commander Shepard. Solana hadn't been able to get in touch with her brother and with their mother's condition worsening, she was eager to grill her Alliance contact with her own thorough set of questions. All Kaidan had been able to do was assure her that her brother was safe as far as he knew. At the time, he had decided it was best not to describe the suicide mission he believed they were planning through the Omega 4 relay, instead trying to assure her that Garrus was in capable hands under Shepard's command – though saying the words made Kaidan grimace.

What had happened next was something Kaidan still wondered about and which he couldn't quite explain.

Somehow his mouth had betrayed him. Weeks of general hermitage and trips to isolated colonies looking for clues had him yearning for a connection... and somehow he had convinced himself that Solana felt the same way. Impulsively, he'd asked if she'd like to go for a walk through the presidium commons. To his surprise she had, without much hesitation, agreed.

Their walk had turned into dinner and dinner had turned into drinks.

During the entire time, Kaidan hadn't been able to shake the feeling that at any moment Garrus would descend upon them with all the wrath and fury of a redneck father catching his daughter with her skirt up and in the arms of the smooth talking city-slicker. To her benefit, Solana made no mention of the repeated glances he had been casting over his shoulder.

Listening to her speak of the things he had only read about in brief messages, things about Garrus, about their family... about her, Kaidan had found himself hating his former crewmate a little less with each passing moment. Solana was charming in a less sarcastic way than her brother, though she was just as relaxed and self assured. Maybe it was her voice, or maybe it was the liquor, but her stories were as he had imagined all far off places in the galaxy when he was a child - tales of strange landscapes and animals, lore and customs, the vision of a breathtaking dawn of an alien star.

"This is really nice. It's been so long since I've been out. Life is just so demanding these days," Solana had explained somewhat wistfully as her eyes flickered across the other patrons in the club.

Maybe it had simply been the light blue salarian spirit he'd been sipping, but after drink five or maybe six, Kaidan had wandered past the point of no return.

He'd nodded slowly as she spoke, trying not to stare too hard at the woman across from him. Wondering if the shimmer he caught off the blue colour on her face was makeup, or if her skin naturally reflected the scattered lights that lit their dim corner of the restaurant. It was like some exotic, mythical beast had wandered into his reality and he was unable to look away. Helplessly dazzled, his eyes trace the smooth lines and graceful angles of Solana's face, the gold hoops and chain that dangled off the long tip of her fringe, the soothing, yet strong, femininity of her voice – she was the only female turian he knew, and he was hypnotized.

"I find you fascinating," Kaidan had admitted bluntly, causing Solana to look up from her drink, her sharp blue eyes regarding him evenly.

"You do?"

Christ he'd been drunk, and some part of him had hoped she was just as intoxicated so that if he made a fool of himself, he might still be able to look her in the eye. He had begun to feel oddly guilty about all the things he had been keeping from her – and well, from everyone. The loneliness of his job was catching up with him in the atmosphere of stoic professionalism that seemingly bleached the personality out of everyone working on the presidium. The urge to connect with someone was undeniable.

"Yes... I mean... This might sound really strange..." he had realized his sudden verbal confusion had drawn the full attention of the turian across from him. "I look forward to your messages... my work as of late has been pretty lonely, and even though our messages have been somewhat brief and mostly news related, whenever I get a new message notification I'm always hoping it's you. And now, seeing you again..."

God he was making an ass of himself, he was certain of it. In fact he wasn't even sure he was making any sense. Kaidan was just about to start back peddling his unexpected rambling when he felt a warm, gloved hand cover his own.

"I've never... heard that from someone of another species." He hadn't been sure if she was making fun of him or not, but the thoughtful look she was giving their hands was enough for him to hope that she wasn't. "I certainly don't see you the way I did that first moment I found you at my door on Palaven. But still, I feel as if there is some considerable subtext I am unaware of."

Solana had been right. She had opened up to him, revealing little pieces of herself and her life and it was starting to feel one sided. Kaidan had begun to describe his struggle growing up as a biotic, and she had seemed genuinely interested. But it wasn't what had been really hounding him these last several months.

"The more we talk, the more I see things... differently." That had earned him a twitch of a delicate mandible. "But there is something you should know about me and your brother," he had continued with some hesitation. Solana's head titled just enough to cause the gold chain that hung from her fringe to rustle. "When we served together on the Normandy we didn't exactly see eye to eye."

"I wouldn't assume so - Garrus is quite a bit taller than you."

Kaidan hadn't been able to help but laugh, and Solana had given him an uncertain, toothy smile, not quite getting the joke. "Sorry, that's not what I meant." Kaidan had downed the rest of his drink and signalled for another."Shepard was quite fond of your brother, and well, we both began vying for her attention."

"Understandably. From what I have heard, the Commander was highly regarded, but I take it this sort of rivalry is deterred on human vessels?"

"Very much, especially if your commanding officer is a woman... though it didn't stop us. It was mostly harmless practical jokes and sabotage, like placing robotic snakes in sleeping pods..." Kaidan had shook his head when he realized Solana wouldn't know what he was talking about. "A snake is like a long, scaly creature from Earth... anyway, I hid one in the sleeping pod Garrus normally used. He discovered it later of course, throwing himself out of the pod in a naked panic. That rubber snake certainly made the rounds after that, showing up in helmets, in food rations, toilets..."

"I've heard humans and mischief are almost synonymous."

"Sometimes... " Kaidan had chuckled as he regarded his empty glass. "In the end I thought I had won Shepard's affection. Then she disappeared for two years and I mourned her death, as did your brother. We all took it badly, but Garrus seemed the most despondent. I was guilty in his eyes, since I was unable to save Shepard from the Normandy crash. I think he blamed himself too, for not being there." Kaidan had paused as the asari waitress brought him a fresh drink, and nodded his thanks. At the same moment Solana had carefully removed her hand and he missed the contact immediately.

"Do you remember how I told you that I saw Garrus on the Citadel?" Kaidan had asked, swirling the liquid around in his glass. Solana had nodded. "Well, we shared a drink together. Or at least we tried to. I discovered he and Shepard were... uuhhh... together, I said a few things I regret and we haven't crossed paths since. "

The woman across from him had gone a bit quiet after that, her narrow lips pressed closed as she stared into the looking glass of her drink. Finally she had sighed. "You only confirm the suspicions I've had for some time, that Garrus had gotten himself involved with a human superior." Bringing her glass to her lips, she had carefully drained the liquid down her curled tongue. Kaidan had stared, his eyes lingering on her sharp teeth. "But I'm not sure I understand your quarrel with Garrus. If the competition for Shepard is over, doesn't that now make you allies?"

Allies...

Kaidan's mind snapped back to the present as he felt a slight shift and sway as the ship made its final relay jump and entered the Sahrabarik system. It was the interruption he had been waiting for. Politely excusing himself from the purgatory of learning about turian supply logistics, he headed to the main deck. Arriving in the cock pit, he was just in time to see Omega come into view outside the wide viewing windows. It was an impressive sight, a red glowing mushroom hovering out on the peripheries of civilized space where ships, like hornets, swarming angrily about its long arms. As their larger ship closed in, the hornets parted before them like a quaking sea of technological debris.

Osaro still stood where Kaidan had left him hours earlier, arms folded as he stared sternly over the shoulder of the ship's pilot. That poor turian surely had nerves of steel, being able to weather the spectre's personal supervision for so many consecutive hours.

"Now there's an odd looking ship," Kaidan remarked as he stopped beside his spectre mentor, squinting at a small vessel that emerged from the traffic and passed beneath them. Osaro turned to catch a glimpse of it as it emerged on the other side of the Norrulus and headed in the direction of the mass relay. "The main assembly is clearly a human design but the peripherals seem... turian?" Kaidan continued, and the spectre nodded. "The things people cook up in the terminus..."

Osaro's bright eyes turned back to the station as the ship made its final approach to their assigned docking bay, his voice noticeably tinted with disinterest, "indeed."

Kaidan had never been to Omega, and he had to suppress the fit of coughs that almost overtook him as they stepped out of the airlock and into the dirty corridor that led away from the ship.

A batarian and two turians, all heavily armed, were waiting to greet them at the end of the hall. Osaro was, as always, looking unfazed as he walked leisurely ahead of his human companion. This certainly didn't mean he didn't look intimidating. Osaro was tall, even for a turian, and he was good at using that quality to his advantage.

"Spectre," the batarian addressed Osaro gruffly, before looking past him to size Kaidan up. He gave them a slight tilt of his head, but for the life of him, Kaidan could not recall if it was in the direction that meant respect or disdain. "Aria demands you meet with her before you come any farther onto Omega,"

"Lead the way," the spectre answered as he gave Kaidan a look over his shoulder. It clearly wasn't Osaro's first time on Omega, and Kaidan figured it was best to just stay quiet and see how things played out.

The Alliance had provided Kaidan with a wide variety of reports and descriptions of the backwater station, but none of it was living up to what he was seeing in person. They were being led away from the dock, past ghettos, grimy merchants, groups of snarling Vorcha and bands of unsupervised youths of assorted species, armed to varying degrees and looking for trouble. What kind of parent raised a child in a place like Omega? Kaidan frowned. It was more likely that these kids, and probably their mothers as well, didn't really have a choice in the matter.

His morose thoughts were interrupted by someone bumping into the back of him. Turning, Kaidan came face to face with a salarian, armless, a poorly drawn sign hanging around his neck with a scrap of wire.

"Please sir, kind human, just a few credits!" he whined, pushing the beat up credit collector that hung limply around his neck into Kaidan's armoured chest.

"Christ," he muttered, his nose wrinkling at the pungent stench of urine coming from the beggar as he pushed him away, turning quickly to catch up with Osaro and his armed escort. He glanced over his shoulder at the maimed alien, already hassling another annoyed pedestrian. Kaidan began to regret his reaction, which had been instinctual... of course he could have spared a few credits... but it was more than likely that the salarian was one of many purposely maimed beggars being exploited by some local slum lord.

This realization really didn't offer Kaidan any sort of comfort. It just helped solidify his belief that Omega was disgusting.

Finally their trek through the station's scourge brought them to an open concourse that looked out onto a landscape of inverted towers stretching down from Omega's rocky core, floating ominously in the smoggy air. There was a crowd gathered outside a set of large doors, topped with dramatic burning flames and a red sign that proclaimed that they were about to enter Afterlife. It wasn't until the main doors opened and the deep base of thumping music was allowed to escape that Kaidan released a sigh of relief, the music assuring him that they were entering a club and not just the headquarters of a tyrant with a twisted sense of humour.

They had to skirt around a sudden argument turned violent that broke out between waiting club patrons. As several guards stepped in to break up the scuffle, Osaro smirked. "I thought Aria had standards when it came to who she allowed into her club."

"She's letting __you__ in, isn't she?" One of the batarian spat out, and Osaro huffed. It was about as close to laughter as the turian got.

Kaidan's training had him attempting to count the number of armed guards they passed as they moved deeper into Afterlife. Security seemed heavy, but it was hard to tell in the pink haze. The club was busy, the DJ having the attention of the crowd as they danced and writhed in time with the beat. What the hell time was it? He glanced at his omni tool. Middle of the afternoon for him, but obviously not for everyone else.

It seemed as though it was always midnight on Omega.

As they climbed the steps at the back of the club, Kaidan caught sight of an imposing asari, one he recognized from the reports he had been reading and whose clear blue eyes now looked down on them with the sort of fierce scrutiny that could make a grown man cry. Anyone entering that place looking for trouble wouldn't have to be told to ignore the numerous well armed lackeys, because it was clear she was the real threat.

"Weapons," a hard faced turian barked, but Aria waved him away.

"Let them keep their weapons," she motioned to the couch, "Osaro...I thought they shortened your leash, and yet here you are. You just couldn't stay away, could you?"

"Always a pleasure, Aria." Osaro's voice was startlingly smooth and charming.

"And you?" the asari's eyes fell on the only human in the room, "I've never known Osaro to keep company."

"Kaidan Alenko, Alliance Military." His formal introduction drew snickers from the guards and Aria smiled at him as she would to a small child.

"Of course you are sweetie." Picking up her drink, she regarded them over the brim as she took a calculated sip. "What brings the long arm of the Council... and the... short finger of the Alliance... to Omega?"

"We heard the Normandy was visiting," Osaro said directly, though still managing to sound nonchalant. The asari didn't blink, the only evidence that she was even listening was the methodical way she ran her index finger along the rim of her glass.

"Yes, the Normandy... was here," Aria finally confirmed, "In fact you just missed them... Though they didn't stay very long, not even long enough for drinks. Shepard usually has better manners than that."

Kaidan glanced around, trying to imagine his former Commander sitting in the very same spot, sharing a drink with Omega's warlord queen, surrounded by an army of blood thirsty mercs. For some reason the visual made his heart flutter.

"About Shepard..." Osaro began, but Aria dismissed him with a callus laugh.

"Do I look fifty million credits richer?"

"I thought the bounty was twenty million?" Kaidan interrupted and Aria shot him a hard look.

"It's gone up."

Osaro was still waiting for the answer to his question, and Aria sneered at him.

"I didn't see Shepard. I assume she left with the Normandy."

"What about her team mates?" Kaidan continued, ignoring the look of mild annoyance that had settled on Osaro's face, a look clearly due to having his interview hijacked.

"Sure. Several of them disembarked, but if you think any of them will turn Shepard in, you're doing harder drugs than those club goers out there."

"What about Garrus Vakarian?"

Aria 's expression remained unchanged, but she took a moment to answer. "The turian with the wrecked face? I don't believe he's on the station, but if you want to conduct a search, level by level," Aria laughed, "I doubt you'll get very far."

"What I think my companion is asking is if perhaps you can provide us with security footage, and a list of ship traffic - arrivals and departures," Osaro asked casually, looking around with convincing disinterest. "For old time's sake?"

"Old time's sake? Hell Osaro, you must be desperate," Aria laughed, "though I suppose fifty million credits could be enough for someone like you to retire on."

"Someone like me usually doesn't make it to retirement," the turian spectre bantered back as Aria swirled the liquid around in her glass quietly. Finally, setting down her drink, she reached for the datapad sitting on the couch beside her.

"Oddly enough we were having some difficulties with our surveillance system earlier. Entire sectors in dock district four went down." She tossed the datapad towards them and Osaro caught it, gave it a quick look before passing it to Kaidan.

"As for the customs information, I suppose I can provide you with that, but I expect the two of you to get the hell off my station. Now. Spectres are bad for business."

"That seems reasonable," Osaro nodded and Aria set down her glass and they proceeded to transfer the information between omni tools. When it was complete, she stood – signalling that the meeting was over.

"Come back and see me when you're off duty and done babysitting," Aria smirked at Osaro, "that's assuming you survive this foolish search for Shepard."

"Always a pleasure, Aria," the spectre responded dismissively as they turned, passing through the gauntlet of guards on their way out. Kaidan had to stop himself from looking back at her over his shoulder. The asari had a strange magnetism, a heady combination of beauty and danger that provoked the senses. He'd hazard a guess that was precisely why she was in the position she was.

They elbowed a path back through Afterlife's writhing crowds until they emerged outside of the club, where the air was noticeably cooler, though it still tasted of some acrid, unidentifiable odour that Kaidan could feel coating the back of his throat. Raising his omni tool, Kaidan joined Osaro in skimming over the information Aria had so generously bestowed on them.

"There's practically nothing to go on here," Kaidan sighed, his eyes glazing over as he skimmed through lists of generic data and figures. "Does Omega not keep proper records?"

"Omega is far from the bureaucratic monolith of Citadel customs, or the over zealous record keeping of the hierarchy or your human Alliance. No, here the process is both automated and executed at the discretion of private dock owners. IDs can and are faked and scanners disabled. Keeping a record of particular people coming and going off the station would be futile - instead it is more about numbers than specific individuals." Osaro glanced around at the mingling crowds. "Though it might not seem like it, overcrowding or under population are the station's biggest threats... there isn't currently an issue on Omega and Aria wants to keep it that way."

"Still, I'm surprised Aria keeps the gates to her castle open so wide."

"Don't fool yourself. Aria knows exactly who and what of interest arrives and leaves her station. We're lucky we got as much information as we did... we have no authority here."

Kaidan had to juggle looking at this omni tool and watching where he was going as he followed the turian spectre back through Omega's labyrinth. "And the surveillance black out? That's going to stunt our investigation," he remarked distractedly as he stepped over a puddle of unidentifiable, foul smelling liquid.

"Somewhat. But seeing as the Normandy's docking bay was almost continuously on black out, and the most concentrated blackouts occurred in the neighbouring dock districts, I would hazard a guess that we may find something of interest visiting some of the private docks in those areas."

Kaidan couldn't help the long sigh that slipped from his lips. "I thought Aria wanted us off her station... and finding someone from the Normandy crew is one thing, but Aria's right, they'll never willingly give Shepard up."

"Well, we have to start somewhere."

There were eight independent docks that Osaro picked out as being the most promising. The first one had been closed down; the second two provided no leads. By the time they stepped through the door of the sixth location, Kaidan was certain that Shepard and the Normandy had disappeared without a trace, somewhere into the wild west of the terminus.

The turian at the desk glanced up from the omni tool game he was playing and gave them a scowl. "Yes?" he asked somewhat belligerently, though as he said the words his eyes widened at the insignia on the older turian's arm. "Spectre eh? Don't think you have any authority here."

"You want to try me and find out?" Osaro replied calmly. The two turians stared hard at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time before the seated turian sighed and looked away. Osaro, having successfully won dominance, opened his omni tool in what was becoming a familiar stunt designed to make his witness nervous. The person under his microscope couldn't help but wonder... was he scanning their vitals to see if they would lie when questioned? Was he searching for some damning bit of evidence? It was clear as the silence dragged on that the witness was beginning to wonder. Kaidan could tell from where he was standing that Osaro was simply reviewing the list he had received from Aria, but it was having the desired effect on the dock clerk. The seated turian squirmed in his seat.

"Any departures in the past quarter cycle?" the spectre finally asked. The clerk nodded.

"Sure."

"Any humans?" Osaro pressed, and the other turian nodded, already looking a bit flustered.

"Yeah, a group of three humans and before them a human and turian."

Osaro's hands paused and he peered down his long nose, past his omni tool and to the nervous clerk. "Can you describe the human and turian for me?"

"Well the human was covered, couldn't really see what he or she looked like – only saw the pink hands. Uhhh the turian... the turian looked rough... entire side of his face was scarred – had blue stamps, looked like Palaven highlands."

"Any idea where they were heading?"

"I heard them tell Aria they were going to... uhhh... that human colony... Eden Prime?"

Osaro gave Kaidan a sideways glance, "did you notice anything else about them?"

The turian seemed to consider this for a moment... then he shook his head no.

"I'd like to see the ship's registration information."

"I can't do that," the clerk snapped, and without any warning, Osaro grabbed him roughly by the fringe and slammed his head against the desk with a disturbingly calculated finesse that left Kaidan dumbfounded.

"Fuck!" the clerk swore as he raised his head gingerly, his nose dripping blue blood. "Aren't you going to do something?" he yelled at Kaidan, who blinked at being address in the midst of the sudden violence. At that same moment the front doors opened and a salarian stepped in. He looked at Kaidan, and Osaro, and then at the bloody faced clerk and he quietly turned and left.

"You may not have heard me," Osaro continued. "I would like to see the registration information for the ship that left, and also the billing information for its storage."

"I don't have it-" the clerk began and Osaro hauled the seated turian from his chair and slammed him up against a nearby holographic wall display, shattering the projector and raining bits of debris onto the floor as it flickered off.

"Spirits, I swear!" the clerk whined, his arms and legs flailing desperately. "It's company policy that we delete all client information as soon as they finish their business with us! I don't get paid enough to deal with this shit! Please!"

Osaro's mandibles twitched and with some reluctance he released his hold. The bloodied turian slid down the wall into a crumpled heap where he made a few forlorn sounds as he gingerly touched his face. A few quick steps took the spectre to the clerks desk where he began tapping away at the console.

"Fuck..." the bruised turian murmured from the floor as he watch Osaro break into the company records.

"Your cooperation has been appreciated," Osaro said curtly as he finished at the console, motioning to Kaidan that it was time to leave.

Stepping back out into the main corridor, the spectre took a deep breath. "There was no useful information in the company database." Kaidan just stared at the spectre, trying not to comment on the brutality he had just witnessed.

"That description of a human and scarred turian sounds like Garrus and Shepard... And it seems that Aria spoke to them. Maybe we should ask her about it?"

Osaro's hawk like eyes had fixated on something across the busy walkway. When Kaidan followed his gaze he saw a pair of krogan conversing and giving them suspicious glances.

"Aria told us everything she intends to tell us. Going to speak to her now would be unwise, especially considering it looks as though we have outstayed our welcome." Osaro explained as he turned away from the krogan. Wiping a drop of blue blood off his white armour, he began cutting a path through the crowded walkway. Kaidan had to work to keep up. "The turian fits the description of Vakarian," the spectre continued, "but there is no way to know if it was Shepard who was with him. Could be any human for all we know. Ideally we'd have T'Soni and Vakarian in custody, but we need to remember that Shepard is our priority."

"The information we have suggests Vakarian and Shepard are usually seen together," Kaidan offered, but the turian only shook his head.

"It's all assumptions. Right now we don't really have enough information to base our next decision on."

"No, I'm certain it's Shepard," Kaidan insisted.

The turian gave his apprentice a doubtful look over his shoulder. They were nearing the ship, the glowing alien characters that designated their dock number visible in the distance. "How can you be so sure that Shepard was with him?" Osaro wondered aloud. Kaidan didn't answer right away, and as they approached the airlock, Osaro stopped and faced him, giving him a raised brow plate. "Please Commander Alenko, inspire me with your intrepid deductive skills."

Kaidan wanted to blurt out that Shepard and Garrus were having a twisted cross species affair, and that knowing Garrus's single-minded intensity, it was more than likely they were travelling together. He wanted to tell him about all of the rumours floating around the Alliance suggesting Shepard was commanding some sort of galactic love boat, laying atop a pile of stained pillows, sipping wine and surrounded by scantily clad aliens lovers.

What was probably closer to the truth - the thought that kept returning to him, causing his chest to tightening - was that Shepard had found someone who was willing to walk by her side and who believed in her no matter what. Something he had failed to be able to do.

Osaro was still waiting for Kaidan's answer, and the biotic sighed with resignation. "Shepard and Garrus are involved."

The turian's head tilted slightly to the side, the movement very similar to so many he had seen Solana make, and it struck Kaidan as being very birdlike.

"What do you mean?" the turian asked cautiously.

"They are romantically involved," Kaidan clarified. Osaro folded his arms and the biotic realized, with some aggravation, that he was waiting for more. "I would imagine it's fairly serious."

The spectre's eyes narrowed. "How exactly do you know this?"

"Because... Garrus __told__ me."

The turian's mandibles quivered as he processed this new information, his eyes meeting Kaidan's in a stern look. "This is information I would have liked to have known sooner. You realize that repeatedly withholding intel relating to our investigation will make it difficult for me to justly recommending you to the council for spectre induction. In fact, I am beginning to wonder if we are even on the same team."

Osaro's expression had turned icy, his mandibles pressing tightly against his cheeks; Kaidan could tell the turian was furious.

"You're right, I should have told you sooner. I didn't think it would make a difference-" Kaidan's excuse was cut off by a raised hand.

The turian's brow plates furrowed, "Perhaps this is more difficult for you because of your previous loyalties. None the less, if I discover you have been hiding any more information from me, I will be continuing this investigation on my own and you will never set foot in front of the council again."

"I understand," Kaidan replied, feeling his face burning with humiliation at being reprimanded.

"We still can't assume anything, and at the moment, the lead on Eden Prime is all we have," the spectre began, speaking as if nothing had happened. "I'll send out a 'question and report' request on persons matching Shepard and Vakarian's description to all council ports, but that's going to leave us pouring over a lot of information. We will need to fuel up before heading for Eden Prime."

Osaro stepped into the Norrulus' airlock and Kaidan shook his head as he joined him. "I was hoping we would be getting off this death trap sooner rather than later."

"We are. The ship will refuel at the depot, not Omega. The turian military doesn't do business with pirates."

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

Garrus peered up through the Lixos Draa's viewing windows as their trajectory took them close to a turian frigate that was pulling in to dock at Omega, setting of a chain reaction of glowing thruster activity as dozens of smaller ships hurried out of its way. It was a rare sight to see the large vessel so far out in the terminus, especially at the station. So rare that it was somewhat worrisome.

Shepard had just blasted their hardcopy fake IDs out the airlock before flopping into the chair beside him as she tossed him the second fake ID he'd need for the rest of their journey. She reclined in her chair, tugging at the cloth now tangled around her head. "God damn..." she muttered, trying to simultaneously free herself from her fabric prison while updating her omni tool with her new ID.

"Kelly made me look like I just got out of beautician school... " she complained as she inspected her ID picture, before perking up when she noticed something had caught her lover's attention. She followed his gaze out the window to the large ship. "The turian military?... you'd think they'd be stepping on some toes showing up way out here."

"Yeah you don't see that every day," Garrus agreed before returning his attention back to the ship's main console. The Lixos had been docked for months, and although he had been paying to have power supplied to her to keep the somewhat antiquated mass effect core warm, the warning lights he was seeing suggested there might be a few problems in their near future.

"Garrus?"

He grunted in response, his mind focused on the blinking holographic gauges spread out before him.

"Garrus."

Shepard's tone had changed, and his exasperation vanished when he looked up and saw the concern in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"That turian vessel..." She was frowning now as they passed underneath the large ship, it's shadow blocking out the heavy red glow of Omega, leaving their silhouettes painted in the soft blue hues emanating from the dash. "When I was at the shadow broker base-"

Garrus couldn't help but smirk and she shook her head with sly smile. "-Before I was accosted by one of my turian crew members."

"Me? Accost you? I'm pretty sure it was the other way around."

"Anyways... there was a news report about what happened on Illium."

"Oh?" Garrus asked, trying not to sound worried. "Lots of witnesses and speculation, I'm sure?"

"That's not it... " She still sounded concerned and Garrus shot her a raised brow plate as his hands continued to dance across the main console. "In the background, investigating the scene, was a turian spectre."

"We knew the council would send someone."

"Kaidan was with him," she added, and Garrus sat back in his chair. She was looking down at her hands when she spoke. "I was fairly confident we were ahead of whatever fallout came from the encounter with that spectre, so I didn't mention it... but seeing that turian ship... it makes me wonder."

"The council has no authority in the terminus... look at all the grief the council gave you when they reinstated you. Even if there is a spectre onboard that frigate, he and Alenko should have a long and unproductive search for us on Omega." Garrus glanced back at the console that continued to glow and blink beneath his fingertips. It gave an annoyed beep and the turian sighed, "At the moment that is the least of our problems. I think we've got a cool engine core."

"Fuck. Don't tell me the honeymoon is over before it's even begun."

Shaking his head, Garrus placed a reassuring hand on her knee before turning back to the console. "Not even close. I think I can calibrate the secondary coils to squeeze out enough power to get us to the fuel depot..." his voice trailed off as he tapped away at the old haptic display. "There," he gave her a satisfied grin. "It will probably take an hour or so to get the engine up and running, but we'll have time for snacks."

"Snacks?"

"Joker told me snacks are important for uh... road trips? I still don't understand what roads have to do with space travel... "

Shepard smiled as she slid out of her chair and climbed into his lap. Garrus grinned at her as he wrapped his arms around her narrow waist. "Do uhhh snacks mean something in human culture that I'm not aware of?"

His human lover shrugged as she planted a long, slow kiss on his partially opened mouth. "Well, if my meal was a turian, and I was only having a snack, I suppose I'd be having a little bite of turian."

Garrus attempted to look offended, but was failing tremendously. "I think I take mild offence to that," he murmured, sliding his hands down and pressing the tips of his talons against her clothed rear. Her kiss turned into a grin.

He sighed as her narrow fingers wiggled their way beneath his shirt, their soft fleshy pads sliding along the bare hide that lay between the plates that ran along his ribs.

"Prove me wrong, Captain."

`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`

It was going to be another long leg to Eden Prime, and Kaidan was starving. Stepping into the airlock, he glanced at his chaperons as they waited for the decontamination cycle to complete. Osaro had ordered two turians to 'accompany' him onto the fuel depot, for his protection – baby sitters is what they really were. It was more than a little embarrassing, but he could tell it was non-negotiable.

The inner door finally hissed open just as the Norrulus' fuel line was clamped in place with a loud clunk and low rumble Kaidan could feel in the floor. There was a blast of thick, odorous air that stung Kaidan's sinuses, and he frowned as he struggled to orient himself despite the onslaught on his senses. The airlock door opened into a dimly lit corridor, the wall plastered with several ads all suggesting he head to the central lounge and buy questionable food items and services.

Not all fuel depots were quite so sketchy, or as lively. Most had simple automated dispensers of food and other random supplies, while other depots had accommodations and larger restaurants, depending on the sector. This particular depot was special. It's proximity to Omega made it an excellent neutral place for people to meet in a setting outside Aria's reach; at least, so they thought.

It was a long walk down the corridor before Kaidan reached a larger promenade. There were a few lit signs advertising ship mechanics, another describing an establishment that sounded suspiciously like a rub and tug, several missing persons posters and lots of arrows pointing in the direction of the rest of the action.

Despite the enormity of the fuel depot, it probably only had about fifteen to twenty permanent residents. The central room was not excessively massive and was, of course, as poorly lit as the rest of the facility, accented by gaudy, flickering holographic signs in varying degrees of clashing colour schemes. The place was surprisingly animated, though it seemed mostly due to the depot workers having drinks on the far side and the shady looking mercs meeting on the other. Pulling it all together was the terrible batarian techno punk that was mixing with a few dozen conversations to create a hum of gibberish and noise. There were a few food vendors, a sketchy looking establishment advertising clean bathrooms and showers as well as a few places to sit and get sloshed.

All the staples for the weary space traveller - food, showers, sex and booze.

Kaidan glanced over his shoulder at his two turian shadows. "Any ideas?" he asked. They looked at each other and shrugged. Kaidan released a tired sigh before turning back to the room. "You guys can wait here. I'm sure I can take care of myself" he muttered as he squinted at the different food stalls through the scattered crowd of people, trying to weigh the risk of food poisoning over the rumbling in his stomach. One booth had a few customers at it, with a sign above that declared in large calming letter, 'Food stuff, direct from your home world'. It sounded safe enough.

Weaving his way towards the stall, past a few mingling groups; he could hear, but not see, a turian speaking with the volus vendor.

"Pe... Pistachios? You sure they can eat these?"

"Oh yes, of course... cruuuhhhhc... Grown, sealed and shipped... cruuuhhhc... direct from Earth."

"Uh hunh. I could buy a meal and three rounds of drinks on Omega for what you're charging for this."

"Then... ccuuhhhhcc... go to... cuuuhhhcc... Omega," the volus snarled through filtered breaths.

"If I find out something is wrong with these, there will be nothing, not even that kinetic barrier you're hiding behind, that will be able to save your life."

Kaidan frowned. The voice was... very familiar. He tried to see past the group of nervous colonists that stood between him and the turian at the booth, but he couldn't quite get a good look.

"Alright, give me two of those orange things, and another bag of... yeah, that one..." The turian had his omni tool open, and as he paid, Kaidan rounded the group of colonists and finally got a clear look.

Though the bandage was gone, and visor off, Kaidan's heart jumped. There was no mistaking the turian as anyone but Garrus Vakarian.

Kaidan fumbled for his pistol, realizing at the same moment that he had no cuffs and that his turian escort was loitering uselessly somewhere on the other side of the room. He was going to have to play this just right...

Unfortunately for the Alliance marine, the motion of someone reaching for a weapon was enough to catch the turian's attention, and as he tucked his purchase under his arm, their eyes met in mirrored unbelieving stares.

In the time it took Kaidan to blink, Garrus was already running from the kiosk, weaving his way through the maze of people. Struggling to follow, Kaidan pushed past a group of rough looking asari and skidded around a corner, following the turian down one of the many long corridors that crisscrossed the depot. Garrus was already widening the distance between them, and Kaidan swore under his breath as he stumbled.

"Garrus! Stop!" He called out, but his commands went unheeded as the turian took another hard turn. As Kaidan rounded the corner, he caught a glimpse of the turian's back as he leapt over a railing. There was a heavy thump of feet on metal just as Kaidan looked over the edge and into the fog of venting steam where the turian had disappeared. He hesitated for a moment, realizing that there were no other sounds of pursuit from behind him. He was on his own.

Grabbing the railing, Kaidan flung himself over the edge, his breath being knocked from his lungs by the jarring landing. The metal framework surrounding him reverberated with the impact, announcing his presence with deafening severity.

Dirty lights beneath the metal catwalk lit the way farther into the bowls of the fuel depot, and they flickered sickly. Kaidan had only taken a few steps forward when an ear piercing sound sent his pistol to the ready, his eyes darting around anxiously. Looking down, he let out a long breath as he raised his boot to reveal a bag of nuts. Garrus was definitely down here somewhere.

Kaidan adjusted his grip on his pistol, realizing that his hands were shaking. He wasn't sure if it was because he might be moments away from getting shot, or if it was the idea of having to shoot a former teammate. He felt a bead of sweat tickle his brow, and he brushed it away with annoyance.

Fuck.

He didn't know if Garrus was armed, but it was safe to assume he was. Even if he wasn't, Garrus was strong, and Kaidan knew he was no match against him in hand to hand combat.

There was a clink of metal, and Kaidan whipped around, the sound echoing down a narrow walk between several long rows of massive tanks. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath, and he let it out in a shaky exhale. Leading with his raised weapon, Kaidan began to carefully make his way in the direction he had heard the noise, checking beside each tank as he passed. He could see the end of the tanks just ahead, and he felt his chest tighten, the adrenaline bombarding his system making his heart beat loud in his head. Instinct was telling him that Garrus was waiting for him there, a part of him desperately wanted to turn back the way he'd' come.

Shuffling up to the last tank, Kaidan slowly peered past it... but saw only more of the same dark catwalk, empty except for the wafting billows of steam being expelled from the ageing machinery below. He listened for a long time, straining to hear over mechanical background noise that surrounded him, but there was nothing.

Turning to head back the way he'd come, Kaidan let out a sudden, surprised yelp as his face impacted something hard that had swung out from behind a set vertical pipes. Stumbling backward, eyes shut in pain, he had to stop himself from raising a hand to his bruised face. Instead he used it to lash out a flash of biotic power, strong enough to knock back his opponent, but weak enough not to damage the volatile infrastructure that surrounded him. There was a pained grunt, and realizing he had hit his target, Kaidan took the opportunity to grab his pistol from where it had fallen on the floor.

Raising his weapon, Kaidan blinked the warm blood from his vision until he realized he was practically looking in the mirror. Before him, his haggard opponent's shoulders were rising and lowering in time with his own heavy breaths, their pistols level with each others' faces. The turian had a wide eyed hysterical look his eyes, and the biotic swallowed, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Garrus-"

"If you think you're going to ask me to lower my weapon..." the agitated turian threatened.

"Where's Shepard?"

He didn't reply and Kaidan pressed his lips together. This wasn't going to be easy. "You'll have to come with me," he demanded, but his voice sounded weak, even to his own ears.

"Like hell. You're not taking me anywhere."

"God dammit Garrus, don't make this difficult. No one has to get hurt."

Again the turian remained silent, and Kaidan felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in alarm. His old shipmate looked sort of naked without his visor, and Kaidan expected Garrus to seem less intimidating without it, but the look in the turian's eyes overwhelmingly made up for it. Kaidan was acutely aware that he was not looking into the eyes of the same person he'd once known - someone who, despite their differences, always had his back. No, looking at him now, it was clear the terminus had changed him, Shepard's death and resurrection had changed him... whatever he had seen and lost had... changed him. He bore the scars of a man who walked to hell and back on a regular basis, if simply for the view.

Without any leverage or bargaining chips, there was no doubt that Garrus Vakarian wouldn't be taken by force.

"Garrus... Shepard needs to be taken into custody. She murdered three hundred thousand civilians. __Three hundred thousand__-"

"And she made that decision under great duress!" the turian interrupted, but Kaidan pressed on.

"She's been working for Cerberus. Cerberus god dammit, the same people who murder and torture people in all manner of horrific ways to further their own interests. They are fucking terrorists."

"First of all, you may not realize it, but we're at war... and if you think Shepard makes any decision that costs lives lightly, then you obviously don't know the Commander very well. " His comment stung, and Kaidan grit his teeth as the turian continued. "As for Cerberus, Shepard wouldn't have had to make a deal with the devil if the Alliance had gotten off their asses... It was Cerberus who saved her life and gave her the tools to save thousands, possibly millions of others."

"But at what cost? You think Cerberus does these things without their own motives? Shepard could be a Cerberus puppet, or worse, she could be indoctrinated..."

"No."

"She murdered a fellow council spectre," Kaidan added, adjusting his grip on his weapon, his gloved palms damp from stress. "It reminds me of someone," he added quietly.

"Kaidan, that spectre was working for the Shadow Broker," the turian hissed angrily. "She was trying to kill Liara-"

The biotic was shaking his head, "You've changed Garrus."

Garrus' mandibles twitched as the commanding voice of Osaro could be heard off in the distance. Kaidan realized his turian escort must have called the spectre as soon as the chase had begun. There was no doubt that by now he had a squad of turian marines searching the area.

"Kaidan, let me go," Garrus demanded in a low voice.

"Why? So you can run? Shepard-"

"-Is going to turn herself in," he added.

"She's out of time..."

The voices were getting louder, and Garrus looked around anxiously. Unbelievably, the turian took a deep breath and lowered his weapon.

"Kaidan, listen to me. Whatever you believe, about Shepard, about me, about the reapers, about all of this mess - what difference does it make if you drag me into custody now, or if you wait until Shepard turns herself in?"

"That's assuming she'll do that."

"Don't you remember?," Garrus was holding out his arms, his eyes wide, "we used to be on the same team – we had the same goals. Just give us a few more days."

Kaidan frowned, "You know I can't do that."

"If Shepard doesn't turn herself in... " Garrus' voice dropped as the running footsteps of the turian marines closed in. "You have my word, I will bring her to you myself."

His old turian shipmate was looking at him earnestly, and Kaidan was reminded of the moment he had been lifted off the ground by Garrus' manic grip in the chaotic docking bay of the SR-1's demise years earlier. So much had happened since then...

"Commander Alenko, have you found anything?" Osaro's loud, authoritative voice reverberated off the pipes and metal canisters. The two ex-teammates hidden in the steam below, flinched.

"Please," Garrus pleaded, taking a step back so that he was partially hidden in the dark shadow of an overhead beam. "Don't do this for me, do this for Shepard."

Kaidan stared hard at the turian, the clink of footsteps on the metal walkway pausing directly above them.

"Commander?" Osaro called out, concerned.

"No..." Kaidan called back, lowering his weapon. "No, there's nothing down here."

Garrus released a long, silent exhale of relief and nodded his thanks, already stepping away from him. Kaidan watched as the turian's retreating back was replaced by quiet wafts of steam and shadow. In a few short moments he had allowed his prey to disappear into the maze of walkways and maintenance hatches that would lead him to his freedom.

"Fuck," he whispered aloud.


	21. Chapter 21

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

CHAPTER 21

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

__It isn't always possible to measure the worth of one man's life in the number and weight of the dead. How many litres of blood are required to even the scales before the need for vengeance is satisfied?__

__Archangel still didn't know the answer to that question and he doubted he ever would. __

__As he had dozens of times before, the weary turian's eyes fell upon the battlefield with the sort of heavy numbness that is only born in those who have witnessed unrelenting slaughter. The carnage of bodies below him spread out like a tapestry of demonic horrors. The dead... nameless and faceless... their final poses their only legacy in this life. __

__It was a tapestry he had woven with his own hands.__

__Ten bodies for each – the members of his team deserved at least that many - more if he could manage it. __

__The bridge and barricade had been quiet for some time... perhaps the stench of their dead companions was beginning to weaken his enemy's resolve. He glanced back down at the familiar object he held. Slowly, Archangel wiped a gloved hand across the side of his visor, brushing away tiny bits of curled metal as he inspected his handy work. It had been too long since he'd wielded a knife, yet he had made sure the first three names were clearly cut. __

__Sidonis' name was first, as he had been by his side from the beginning... and as he figured it, was probably the first to die. It was impossible for Archangel to prevent his mind from conjuring up a slew of disheartening images of his friend being dragged into some dark, horrific place - drugged and beaten, his captors breaking his will with their words and bodies. A person could only take so much. For a turian, it was a fate worse than simply dying. To live, even for a short time, with the dishonour of betrayal and being unable to achieve redemption was an even greater punishment. It was a sure way to tarnish any family's reputation.__

__Three names only. He hadn't killed enough mercs yet to add the rest. Sliding the blade back into the sheath hidden in his boot, the solitary turian turned his visor over in his hands until he found the very first mark he had made. A single S carved on the very bottom. The start of a name he had begun to carve months earlier, in the hour just before he had first landed on Omega. __

__It had been a promise, but in carving that single letter he had realized there was no scale that could measure what it would take to make up for her loss. Bathing himself in all the criminal blood on Omega couldn't wash away the tragedy of her death. There was no lifetime long enough, no number of noble deeds and selfless acts that could make up for all the good she would have brought into the world. The things she should have accomplished - the lives she would have saved, catastrophes she would have averted... all of that potential pulled from this life like the air from her lungs in the void of space. __

__He had convinced himself that some day, when his face plates had been worn smooth with age and his joints ached from years of combat... some day, when enough people had died... he might be able to lay her to rest. __

__Today wasn't that day however, and it was beginning to seem like that day might never come.__

__Archangel's bare eyes scanned the bridge once more before he slid his visor back into place. Assured there were no approaching heat signatures, he set the perimeter alarms and headed down to check the basement. Passing the shrouded bodies of his team, he cast his eyes to the floor. Beyond them and the covered stacks of dead mercs left from the initial conflict was the door to the basement. __

__As for the stench, his mind had conquered it hours earlier.__

__He knew he didn't have much time, so with hurried steps he made his way down the metal staircase, the lights automatically flickering to life as he entered. Beyond the blast doors lay the explosive charges which had been set months earlier by Sensat, after it was agreed the lower levels were a strategic weak point. Stepping up to the detonation controls, the evening Archangel had spent with his men, his friends, suddenly came back to him. Crude jokes and optimistic chatter about 'making a difference' as they clinked various bottles of strong drink, watching as their salarian explosives expert rigged the bombs. Their attitude seemed naive now, even foolish - idealistic dreams of desperate men. Their laughter was only echoes in his mind now.__

__Sensat might be dead, but his handiwork appeared to be in perfect working order.__

__Archangel knew that if he were going to spill enough merc blood to make up for his team's deaths, he needed to make sure the bastards didn't get the chance to sneak up and shoot him in the back. Detonation would block the last unguarded entrance... and destroy his only exit strategy. The turian frowned. __

__Escaping at that moment would have been easy. He could stumble his way through the labyrinthine tunnels that led into Omega's curdled innards and eventually he'd come out the other side. The dirt and grime would wash off, but not the shame. Did he really deserve the freedom to start again?__

__The turian's hand paused on the controls. No. He belonged nowhere now. His team was dead, Shepard was dead and the various members of the Normandy crew had gone their own ways. There was no way C-Sec would have him back now, and he probably wouldn't last long there anyway. And his family... To leave them to the fate of a reaper invasion, he would ultimately be unable to protect them from that as well. Archangel imagined his father sitting in his study in the moonlight, his long talons gently turning the pages of their family book as he wondered just what had been the fate of his son. __

__His isolation was a sudden weight that fell heavy on his shoulders. __

__Behind him, long shadows caressed by the orange emergency lighting stretched out towards him, their dark fingers reaching silently, insistently. The eerie calm held the whisper of a breeze that caressed the bare skin of his neck. It seemed almost like a comforting hand, whether real or imagined- he was certain his dark companion stood in the dim stillness at his back.__

"__You wouldn't think less of me, would you?" he whispered, his hand quivering just a bit as it held its position over the detonation controls. One simple act and he would be sealing his own tomb. __

__There was a soft click from the room, likely a joist settling or a bolt shrinking, but to his ears it sounded disapproving, upset. The ambient noise seemed to give voice to the shapeless presence hovering just out of sight. Archangel let out a choked sigh. Of course she would want him to escape, to fight another day, but his team... how could he slink away after he had allowed them to be thrown to the slaughter? It had been his drive, his blindness to the danger, his need for a total purge of Omega's criminal underworld that had led him to this place. __

__His father had taught him the importance of rules, and Shepard, the value of restraint and caution. He had used the wisdom of neither - and his companions had paid for his mistakes with their blood. Perhaps it was time he turned his need for vigilante justice on himself. __

__Before he could second guess his decision, Archangel pressed the detonator. There was a sudden low rumble he could feel through the soles of his boots as the explosion reverberated through the walls and floor, the crates and supplies rattling. He swallowed the acidic pang of fear in his throat, accepting the fact that there was no turning back. __

__"I'm sorry Shepard."__

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

Hunched over the ship's main controls, the former galactic hero now turned fugitive felt her eyes glaze over as she scanned the rows of alien symbols laid out before her. Turian writing had never been her forte – back in her academy days, the patience and attention to detail the squiggly lines and patterns demanded had been too much for her younger, vengeful self. Looking at them now, her older, wiser eyes could appreciate the simplistic beauty in the shapes. There would be plenty of time to learn each letter and symbol. After all, incarceration was a great opportunity to expand one's interests.

"Let's power up the main grid," came the engineer's tired voice over the comm. Shepard blinked distractedly before letting out a long sigh as she held her omni tool up to the ship's dash. It crudely translated the symbols, allowing her to find the controls she was looking for.

"Ok, powering up," she confirmed dully as she hit a series of glowing holographic buttons. She strained her ears for the expected sound of the core coming back online, but it was notably absent. Her eyes flickered across the gauges - all of them flat."I'm not getting anything on this end."

There was a static filled pause. The long safety cable that stretched out from the fuel depot clinked against the viewing window, the man it was attached to out of sight below, his presence only evident in the periodic jerky movements of the cord.

This had most definitely not been the way Shepard had imagined her pre-imprisonment vacation.

"Just a moment," the engineer finally grunted.

Unconsciously, she reached into her pocket, finding the object Liara had given her. The metal was warm between her finger tips, and she rubbed a thumb across the familiar etched surface. She'd missed the tags at first; Early in her military career, the laser etched surface had given her an identity - a comforting reminder that she wasn't just a nameless orphan, but a soldier with integrity and purpose. Then Garrus had provided her with a replacement, made of his own flesh. Now, her old tags felt foreign and heavy in her pocket. When she looked at them now it was difficult not to see the noose they had been around her neck as she fell into the cold hands of Alchera.

The extended silence of the engineer allowed Shepard's attention to wander to the darkness outside, where, past the drifting safety cable, she passively observed the small vessel next to them disengage its seal and pull away from the fuel depot. Its thrusters came on with a silent, bright blue glow, revealing the silhouette and outlines of other ships docked nearby. Eyes following the shadows upward, she frowned. What had been a dark, haphazardly lit, abstract object parked above them gradually gave itself away as the turian ship they had spotted at Omega.

Coincidence? God, she hoped so.

"Alright, try it again," the engineer requested gruffly through the comm.

Shepard's hands returned to the controls, and as she repeated the cold jump engine protocol, a very soft rumble began that quickly dissipated into a familiar hum.

"Looks good on my end," the mechanic chimed in. "How are those gauges reading?"

"Everything appears to be levelling off," Shepard replied slowly, glancing briefly at the controls. Relief should have been at the forefront of her mind, but instead her attention was still held captive by the ship that loomed above and what its presence might mean. By now the light from the thrusters of the small, retreating vessel had vanished, the dark veil of the cold ether once again shielding the turian ship from view.

There was a less than subtle throat clearing over the comm and Shepard instantly snapped back to task.

"Sending you the remainder of your payment now," she assured the engineer, who was now floating outside the viewing window. It never ceased to be impressive how easily and quickly a person could part with credits anywhere in the galaxy.

"Received. Safe journey," the turian engineer eventually mumbled, giving a tired wave before he began to pull himself along his cord and back to the safety of the depot airlock. Shepard could hardly suppress the shudder that ran up her back at the sight of the obvious patches in his suit. It was impossible not to scrutinize his progress until he reached his goal. Watching people work in space made her nervous now, though she'd never admit it. It didn't help that repair jobs in the terminus usually meant antique parts and dark age safety practices - assuming there even were safety practices.

So now the ship was fixed, but where was Garrus?

Swinging the chair around, Shepard planted her feet facing the exit, her eyes narrowing as she regarded the sealed door that led to the airlock. Garrus had made it clear, though somewhat jokingly, that this was his ship and his rules. Fine, she'd play along. With much mock seriousness he had bestowed upon her a new rank, which, while secretly maddening, they'd enjoyed a good laugh about.

Apparently the amount of time she'd been in service only amounted to the rank of lieutenant in the turian military, and the two years she had been dead didn't count. Neither did her notable acts of bravery.

Shuffling her boots impatiently against the grey, scuffed floor, Shepard pressed her lips together silently. '__Stay put'__ his words echoed in her head, his voice emphasizing the word 's__tay',__ before he waltzed off to leave her to count the minutes on the ship and babysit the mechanic.

__Stay put...__

But the more she stared, the more the door appeared to be beckoning her. Now that work on the engine was completed, the silence revealed a symphony of sounds from beyond, to which her mind eagerly offered a myriad of fantastical sources. The soft clink of metal could be a meddling group of slavers, or maybe that low distant rumble was an explosion. The Normandy was too big for such sounds to reach her, but a small ship like this? Unlabelled, unexplained noises fuelled her imagination without mercy.

Sure, it was more than likely she was simply hearing the echoes of slight vibrations carrying over through the airlock junction...

... but it wouldn't hurt to take a look. She was Commander Fucking Shepard after all. Of course she could take a look.

Decision made, she took a confident step to the door control and began the airlock cycle. She slipped on her jacket, and then reached for a pistol, slamming home a fresh sink before tucking it into the back of her pants. She wasn't expecting trouble, but it was good to be prepared. Almost forgetting the most important piece of her disguise, she grabbed for her scarf, tugging the loose fabric over her head so it hung almost to her eyes.

When the door finally opened, Shepard was faced with an airlock even more rickety that the one on Omega, something which she had believe not to be possible. In fact, she was certain she had seen abandoned ships and prothean ruins in better shape. Upon stepping inside, there was a sickening hiss, and she tensed, biting her lip as she silently praying for anything but being spaced again. An unhealthy metal clank echoed around her, and she couldn't help but reach for the wall as the inner doors jerked open.

It wasn't like her to feel so jumpy, or religious, but she couldn't deny that she quietly thanked a nameless space deity that she was still alive.

To her left and right ran a dark, odd smelling corridor. Her nose wrinkled as she attempted to identify the pungent odours individually, but without success. The poorly maintained lights that lit the gangway from beneath and above flickered sickly. Before her, a jumble of glowing signs and arrows seemed to point to one direction as being the most promising, at least if she were looking for booze and questionable sexual pleasure from a hanar nicknamed Nooma... but the sound of conversation echoing down the metallic walls from the opposite end was enough to lure her away. Careful to keep her steps muffled, she crept up to a bend in the hall, the volume of the voices was enough to tell her that their owners were close.

"It's not that I think it's impossible, but I hear she's got a platoon of Cerberus engineered body guards."

"Exaggerations. You afraid of your own shadow too?"

"Hey why don't you fuck yourself Arlan? Besides, we'd be the last to cash in on this sort of payout - anyone with a gun will be on the hunt. I heard some poor fool already got shot due to a case of mistaken identity."

"Dumb shit probably deserved it... anyway, I wouldn't be doing it for the credits."

"Yeah right... like you're not a pistol whore-"

"Naw, I'd be doing it for CREDIT. It'd be a hell of a way to earn one's immortality."

Were they talking about her? Great. Even if she made it out of this political mess and didn't spend the rest of her days in jail, and maybe if the reapers didn't kill everyone in the galaxy, she could look forward to a life of dodging star struck assassins and gun toting space cowboys until the end of her days. Maybe Miranda had been right; she should have dyed her hair or maybe shaved it off. If word got out she were onboard the fuel depot, it would no doubt spark an unstoppable feeding frenzy.

It occurred to Shepard that leaving the ship may not have been the wisest of decisions after all.

"Come on, I'm not waiting for Tulli any longer, let's get some food," one of the thugs spat out.

There were grunts of agreement and Shepard turned on her heels as she realized they were now walking towards her. Wrapping the scarf more securely around her face, she kept her head down as she tried to put some distance between her and the subjects of her spying. Her hand grazed the top of the pistol peaking out of her pants, double checking it was still in place. Casting a look over her shoulder, a soft "oomf" slipped out as she suddenly bumped into something hard. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at the object blocking her path.

Garrus' face only registered a moment of surprise before his expression went dark. He was clearly unimpressed that she was out exploring, but there was something else – an almost frantic agitation that seemed rather out of place...

"Dammit Shep-" he began, but the cloaked woman silenced him with a hand pressed over his mouth. She motioned over her shoulder, the raunchy chatter of the approaching duo growing louder. Shepard felt the familiar high, her body conditioned so perfectly for conflict and stressful encounters. The explosion of adrenaline, muscles tensing, pupils dilating, heart rate jumping, her cybernetics charged and ready for action - these ruffians would be no match for the two of them if it came down to it.

Checking over his shoulder confirmed they were too far to make it to the airlock. Without any warning, Garrus dropped what he was holding, his hands gripping her sides as he wrenched her in the direction of the wall. She was unable to prevent the gasp of shock that slipped from her lips, her palms meeting the clammy metal surface of the centuries old, dirty corridor as he pushed against her. Fingers splayed out in surprise, she felt the scarred side of Garrus's face press against her cheek as his left hand planted against the wall near her head, a narrow thigh spreading her legs aggressively.

Dangerous, like the blurry vids she had been watching on the shadow broker base. The muscles in his arms flexed visibly, his breath a humid blast against her neck, coming out in short puffs like he'd been running. His intensity was intoxicating and she breathed in the spicy scent of him. He was so close it was hard to read his expression, the only feature she could bring into focus were his watchful eyes, tracking the approaching threat.

A couple of rough looking, well armed turians appeared. Taking a quick glance, Shepard noted the banged up armour, the broken fringe of the one and the long scar that ran down from the eye of the other. Behind them, a krogan and two batarians followed, the miserable looks on their faces suggesting they weren't being paid enough.

Garrus' taloned fingers clung to the soft flesh of her sides and Shepard couldn't help but squirm. The moment she did however, a bony hip pressed forward, holding her still against the wall. She reached for the cuff of his hip, her hands feeling the dance of hide and plates beneath the fabric of his pants. Before her fingers had a chance to move lower, a strong hand pulled them away, trapping them against the wall. The sting surprised her and she grunted in discomfort.

She could hear the group pause as they approached.

"This looks exciting... I've never had a ssss__orrue__ before," one of the turians announced. Shepard's translator didn't pick up the slang, but the intonation was translation enough.

"I heard the females have special... talents," the krogan added lewdly. "Maybe we should ask this turian!" The group laughed.

Shepard noticed Garrus' eyes narrow, a steady exhale escaping through his nose, but he remained frozen in place. His grip on her was firm, exciting and she couldn't help but press herself against the length of him. He exposed a row of sharp teeth in warning, but its intended threat was utterly lost on her.

"Eh, I wouldn't mind having a go," someone out of sight added. Shepard's response was to let her right hand creep to the top of her pistol, which was now painfully caught between her body and the wall. She hadn't been looking for a fight, but now... her fingers itched to draw her weapon. Since she still had her portable shield generator on... surely she could drop two or three of these lowlife mercenary bastards before they realized they were caught in a firefight.

Shepard swallowed. It wasn't like her to go looking for violence... so why did she want to beat this particular band of mercs into the ground?

As if sensing her trigger happy inclination, Garrus glared at the group over his shoulder. "Find your own human," he snarled. There was a long uncomfortable pause before one of the mercs finally spoke.

"Dammit Arlan, we didn't stop at this shit hole so you and Dorr could pick a fight and gang bang some hair covered whore. Besides, this is disgusting."

Shepard couldn't see what was happening, but after some muttering, she heard the motley group continue past, their conversation trailing along behind them.

"...human, asari, whatever. Turian woman are enough for me..."

"You say that now... but wait until you meet this stripper on Omega..."

"Not interested.. though I suppose if we collect that bounty on that human bitch Shepard. I wouldn't turn down a chance to fuck her into submission..."

"They say there's a reason those batarian slavers take the long way home!"

There were hearty laughs and a few friendly punches among them as their dark forms disappeared down the poorly lit corridor. As their running commentary faded amidst the ambient hum of the fuel depot, Shepard wrapped her arms around Garrus' narrow waist, feeling his chest heave as he let out a long breath.

The danger had passed, but his eyes were still glued to the spot where the band of mercs had disappeared. Intent on getting his attention, Shepard let her hands slide down between them. Just as her fingers reached her waist, he took a jerky step back, releasing his grip and sending her staggering from the wall. A little off balance, she frowned, noticing him snatch something off the floor. As she stepped forward, planning on continuing the thrill of their encounter, he grabbed her wrist without warning and practically dragging her to the airlock.

"God damn it Garrus! What the hell!?" she demanded, wrenching her hand free with enough force to spin him around.

"You couldn't just stay on the ship, could you?" he hissed back, "you had to go looking for trouble."

It took only a second for her embarrassment to turn to rage. "I wasn't __looking__ for trouble. You're gone for ages, then you show up suddenly looking stunned like you've just woken up from a bad red sand trip... Then you proceed to engage in a show for those creeps - pushing me against that fucking dirty wall and now..."

She'd been berating him through the entirety of the airlock cycle and was now following him with her tirade all the way to the pilot's seat. He didn't even look at her when he spoke again, his voice even and unnerving.

"There's no time for this... and besides, I was trying to hide our identity-"

"Bullshit."

"You don't think gun fire and a pile of dead mercs on a fuel depot wouldn't draw some attention?"

"Not on one so close to Omega, no."

He seemed focused on the controls, but she could tell he was fuming. "Despite your track record, you're not invincible you know," he added. Shepard bit her lip.

"And I'm not a victim either. I could have handled the situation. Just because I'm-"

There was no chance for Shepard to finish her sentence because the turian seated in front of her had launched himself from his chair and closed the short distance between them. Looming over her, he tore the scarf away from her face in one smooth, defiant movement. To someone else, Garrus' somewhat uncharacteristic display of aggression might have seemed intimidating or even frightening - but she wasn't afraid of him.

Sticking out her chin and setting her jaw, she prepared for whatever might happen next.

A tense silence followed, interrupted only by the soft beep of computer activity from the ship as they stared each other down. His expression said he was angry, enraged even – but Shepard knew what it really was.

Fear.

"I told you to stay onboard the ship," he repeated with a deep flange, deliberately showing a second flash of teeth. Feet planted, chest heaving, the turian's fingers curled and uncurled at his sides in a way that made him look as though he might lunge forward and attack. Garrus very rarely lost control... but that look in his eyes. She had seen it before.

That first time he had openly challenged her, while on a mission no less – she had been so shocked that her idealistic turian C-Sec officer had become so... wilful – that he would publicly chastise her carelessness.

The moment you begin to love, it turns out, is the same moment you being to fear.

It was the danger in their lives - that ever present possibility that each moment could be their last. Perhaps in the past her confidence had been too good at portraying the illusion of being untouchable, immortal. She had shattered that misguided assumption. On that particular day, she had indulged in her risk taking a little too much. Whether unleashing her anger had been a result of his insubordination or if he had been planning it all along, she still couldn't be sure. All she knew was it had resulted in the hottest, most perverse sex she had ever had.

It turned out that after the fear comes the relief. The celebration of still being alive - still being loved.

Now, that familiar thrill in the pit of her stomach had returned, standing testament to just how twisted their passion truly was. Add in a good dose of anger and a bloodstream coursing with stress hormones, with a small enclosed space? This turn of events was inevitable.

It wasn't the first time Shepard had to wonder if she were harbouring an unhealthy association between violence and sex. At least she wasn't alone in that psychosomatic problem.

"In case you've forgotten," Shepard explained slowly, as if to a child, "I'm the one who gives the orders."

He didn't answer her; instead he took a step forward. It was a very simple movement, but Shepard held her ground, causing his chest to just barely brush against her own. A ripple of anticipation swept through her as the tension between them grew taught. This was where she chose her role, was she Commander or Lieutenant? Although her nature willed her to force him to submit and step back, the thrill of giving up control was always tempting.

Finally she took a careful step back, her heart fluttering at the sight of Garrus' eyes narrowing.

"My ship, my rules," he ordered forcefully, taking another step forward until she was pressed against the bulkhead. His hands planted with significant force on either side of her head, the anger in his eyes had faded, being replaced with white hot desire. Leaning forward abruptly, he dragged his face across her front, breathing in the scent of her with an exaggerated flourish.

"Your rules?" she asked nonchalantly, ignoring the way his shoulders rose with each excited breath. "Fine." Without hesitation Shepard slid down the wall, letting her hands run down his front before she stepped out of his trapping embrace. Turning her back on him, she went straight to the navigation controls. "Plotting in a course for Palaven."

She heard him turn, his gaze burning into her back. "And what course would that be?"

"Through the following relays," she answered professionally, remembering back to a time when she actually was a lieutenant - her imagination quickly placed her on the bridge of a turian ship. The only human crew member... how could she possibly resist her turian commander? She smirked to herself as she confidently translated the controls with her omni tool, the fingers of her other hand dancing across the holographic dials. "Seraph-" she began, but her voice caught when she felt her commanding officer come up behind her.

"Unacceptable," Garrus growled, his exhale rustling her hair against her neck.

Pressing her lips together, Shepard attempted to calm her racing heart and the hard breaths her body was demanding. "Why?" she challenged, trying desperately not to lean into him.

"Lieutenants don't get to ask why," he answered, his hands leaning on the edge of the control panel on either side of her. The heat from his body told her he was close.

"Don't have a good reason... Sir?" Shepard asked innocently, certain adding the formality would break his control. Instead there was pause before she felt his warm breath on her shoulder and she suppressed a shiver.

"All traffic routed through the Seraph relay is subject to increased ship search protocols due to its proximity to fifteen relays in politically unstable space."

Well there was that, she supposed.

"Alright, we'll take the-" she stumbled over her words, distracted by the movement of his right hand. The tip of an ungloved talon lightly pressed against the side of her knee before being slowly dragged up her thigh. The shiver this move caused could not be contained. The travelling finger reached the top of her pants and she held her breath as it followed the edge forward to the clasp at the front where it paused.

"What was that you were saying?" he prodded.

"The-" she began just as a quick twist of his wrist released the clasp of her pants, his large hands slipping beneath her underwear and slipping them both over her hips until they crumpled into a pile at her feet.

" -the Aeius relay," she breathed, her words unintentionally coming out as a whisper. Ignoring her sudden vulnerability, she attempted to reroute their course on the nav screen.

"Wrong again," he scolded, his right hand trapping hers as he leaned forward. "Clearly you aren't very familiar with this area of space and require some... special supervision," his voice was firm but quiet against her ear. There was a metal click of a clasp releasing and the soft rustle of clothing. The expectation of feeling his lithe body against hers ruled, and she inched backwards, searching, only to find nothing. "The route through the Aeius relay is taken primarily by mining ships," he continued. "We are definitely not in a mining ship, are we?"

He very rarely would have gotten away with such an ostentatious tone, but her clever rebuttal instantly dissolved into a moan as she felt one of his lone finger carefully draw up the wet crease between her legs. His touch was electric, spreading the evidence of her lust in smooth circles, but she bit her lip hard trying to suppress just what he was doing to her.

"In fact a vessel like ours would stick out." He emphasized the last two words with delicious, bare, hot hips pressing against her, his weight pinning her to the ship controls. His arousal slid easily along her opening, and the slight pang of frustration she felt as it missed its mark died as it rubbed against a spot almost as satisfying.

"Uh hunh..." she finally sighed, her anticipation finally overcoming her pride and resistance as she let her spine arch backward, her head landing on his shoulder. A demanding hand snaked up under her shirt front, skimming across the smooth flesh of her stomach before fighting away the fabric of her bra. The smooth pads of his fingers grazed the raised peaks of her breasts before he bent her back over.

"You haven't finished plotting our course, Lieutenant," he growled.

Course? What? Shepard frowned as she looked down at the navigation controls, her mind unable to focus. "Then we'll take-" she began, trying to rein in the shaky breathlessness of her voice, but without success. It was egging him on now as he impatiently relieved her of her shirt, the front coming undone with one hand while the other was pushing the fabric up her back. A searing tongue landed on her cool skin, freeing another sigh from her and forcing her eyes closed. Freed of her bra, the taloned fingers on her breast felt as natural as if they had only known human flesh their entire existence.

How powerfully their fear could rule their lust and passion.

Shepard had given up on the nav screen all together, and was even prepared to simply start mashing in any coordinates if she thought that might satisfy her lover. The rough edges of his knees had spread her legs, and she stood on the tips of her toes in anticipation. The skilled touch of his hands, the hot wetness of his tongue – she pressed herself against him, needing to be closer as most of the fight was drained out of her. "I don't know... which relay to take," she finally admitted, her words heavy with double meaning. Her confession was the last sign of her surrender, and he leaned his weight forward, parting her and pressing himself inside.

Alive. The feeling of connection, that he was as close to her as he possible could be - in that moment it was the only thing she needed. Clearly he had been aroused for some time because the feeling as he buried himself to the hilt seemed significantly more intense than she was used to. His desire, his need, that he wished to be with her despite the shell of a person she worried she might be.

Not alone. Never alone.

As their twin moans filled the air, he held himself inside her, savouring that first moment of their union. He gave one long stroke, before clumsily reaching past her, his fingers landing on the nav controls as he entered the relay coordinates. Satisfied, he set the panel to sleep mode before slowly withdrawing and thrusting again.

"The Yaen relay," he growled into her ear, his right hand wrapping around the curve of her hip bone as he moved against her, his other hand smoothly parting three tracks through her hair. She pressed her head into his hand as his speed picked up, his mouth continuing to lick and nip at the soft dip between her shoulder blades.

"But that takes us – takes us past Tyrrice. Doesn't that-" she gasped, gripping the top of the console as his feet found better traction and his stroke ran deeper, "-doesn't that route have too much traffic?"

The turian only grunted in response as their ship banked away from the fuel depot, his hands covering hers as his back curled and the rhythm of his hips picked up. Shepard was only vaguely aware of the station disappearing from view as the cabin lights dimmed, leaving only the far off dual red and blue glow from the omega relays to light their bodies.

In the semi darkness, they realized that their breathy gasps and impassioned moans would be heard by no one. No nosey AI, voyeuristic pilot or overly concerned salarian doctor - just each other. When Shepard felt the warm hand of her turian lover dipping down her front, she held her breath until he reached the place where they were joined, feeling the contact of their bodies. When he grazed the sensitive place above, it was enough to cause her body to shudder and she rewarded him with a cry of pleasure.

There was a momentary pause of his hand, no doubt wondering what he had done to turn her normally restrained moans into what he had just heard. Clearly he approved - with a low growl his well timed assault quickly dissolved into a desperate mess of lust, brought on by his enthusiasm to illicit the sound from her again. The heat from his body, the wet sounds of their passion as he swelled inside her– his intoxicating touch on her sex – she was close and the intensity with which he held her and thrust against her said he was too. Garrus' impressive multitasking had driven most thoughts from her mind, so when she heard her own voice it seemed to be coming from somewhere far away.

"It's the danger isn't it?" she asked, her question catching in her sudden gasp of ecstasy. Her name slipped through his teeth in a long moan as her entire body tensed, riding out the waves of pleasure. He was pressing her forward, his other hand trapping hers, the length of his chest against her back as he gave several hard strokes before joining her. As he quivered against her, mandibles pressed against her ear, she reached a hand up to his face, sliding her smooth fingers along his straining neck. Gradually, the motion of his body slowed to deep, firm strokes until he stilled, his body shaking unsteadily as he resting his head against her. When he spoke, his words floated on the ends of his heavy breaths.

"No... it's not the danger. It's you. It's always been you."

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

What should have been the chewing out of a life time had ended up sounding like an awkward late night call from a desperate ex girlfriend. Kaidan knew he really deserved to be knocked down a few ranks for what he had done, but of course no one but Garrus knew about it. Instead, the message from the typically pompous, self assured Alliance brass had carried a tone of such uncharacteristic nervousness that Kaidan had found it more than a little unsettling. It had only been a matter of time before the batarian Hegemony began laying on the political pressure, rallying support and demanding resolution or else. It wasn't as bad as full out war, but it surely demanded concern for the future.

The captain's Spartan quarters had been offered to Kaidan as soon as the message arrived. In fact the quarters had been at his disposal as soon as he had come aboard the turian vessel, but he doubted the gesture was motivated by pure good will. More than likely it was a subtle insult - passive coddling - the offer of undeserving extra comforts for a weak, soft skinned species. Or maybe he was just looking too far into it. Stubbornly, Kaidan had repeatedly refused the offer, and yet in the end here he was, sitting in front of the glowing message screen which still displayed the Alliance logo and end of transmission message.

No one would have to twist Kaidan's arm to make him admit he had, in no way, been looking forward to sitting in the ship's common room, staring down a dozen or so curious turians. How many times would he have needed to refuse to let them touch his hair before punches were being thrown? But somehow, accepting the turian's gentler offer seemed worse.

Squinting at the holographic display, Kaidan muttered bitterly to himself - "Official secure channels my ass." As if anyone was to believe that the turians weren't monitoring every single message sent and received onboard. Eventually he'd have to send the Alliance a response, something filled with platitudes assuring them things were under control, soon to be peacefully resolved – underplaying the fact that they had no real idea where Shepard was.

__Oh yes admiral, the turians are being very hospitable. No sir, no sign of Shepard yet. Oh, but I did see her turian lover about an hour ago. He assured me that Shepard was still planning to turn herself in, but he seemed to be in a bit of hurry, so I let him go without much of a struggle... __

What the hell had he been thinking? Where there was smoke there was fire, and Garrus was clearly the smoke. But seeing his old shipmate again, the desperate look in his eye... Kaidan hadn't been able to follow through with his orders. A confession would feel good, but somehow he figured such a message would get him dishonourable discharged from the Alliance and probably have Osaro through the door in moments. Kaidan let out a soft, sardonic laugh at the thought of the spectre storming in, raging nonsensically about letting Garrus escape, before tearing his apprentice apart with his bare talons.

Seeing Garrus again... speaking with him... it always left Kaidan with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. Shepard had always favoured the ex-C-Sec officer, but Kaidan had convinced himself it was no different that the interest she took in helping Tali. Garrus' insufferable brown-nosing had seemed like nothing more. Now he couldn't help but wonder if their romance had begun even before Shepard had come back from the dead. Kaidan was reminded of the wild, desperate look he had seen in the turian's eyes on the Citadel docks. The ease with which Garrus had hoisted him up...

__Why couldn't you protect your mate?__

No, they hadn't been involved before that, not if Garrus assumed Shepard belonged to him. But Garrus had been right. He had been unable to save her. Instead of disobeying orders to make sure she survived, he had been the good soldier and run like a coward.

Garrus would never allow him to forget that fact.

There was a soft growl from his stomach, and Kaidan rubbed a hand over it sadly. The physical distraction from his thoughts was welcome - though he really was starving. During all the excitement on the fuel depot, he hadn't had a chance to buy himself anything substantial to eat. Eventually, his eyes drifted to the bag Garrus had dropped. He'd forgotten about the small package, assuming it was dextro food of some sort. Turning the package over in his hand now, he couldn't help but frown as he read the label.

Pistachios? Levo food... for Shepard no doubt – it was both a painful reminder of what he'd done, as well as a gift from heaven.

He couldn't keep doing this - having to choose his loyalties every day, every hour. That very minute, where did they lay? With the Council and Osaro? With the Alliance? Or were they still, somehow tied to the woman he had followed across the galaxy... the woman he had fought beside... the woman he had loved?

Kaidan's omni tool flashed and his fingers fumbled eagerly as he checked it for new messages. It was only junk though, and he let slip a disappointed sigh. What he really wanted to do was let Solana know that her brother was safe – something he had promised he would do. Unfortunately there was no way to prevent Osaro and whoever else was monitoring the ships' comm buoy usage from intercepting the message and following up with a series of uncomfortable questions - questions he really didn't feel like answering. Instead, he did what he often did during the monotonous hours of his work - scroll back through old entries, fondly rereading the mundane history of their correspondence. It was sad, but somehow reading them made him feel a little less alone.

__Another warm day here. Are they still keeping the thermostat unbearably low on the presidium?__

He smiled to himself. Turians always complained about the temperature on the presidium and it had become an ongoing joke between them.

Not for the first time, Kaidan's thoughts began to drift back to the evening he had spent with Solana on the Citadel. She had been charming, smart and with a generous dose of dry Vakarian humour. Despite his tendency for self sabotage, she had somehow been amused at his fumbling, laughed at his jokes and listened thoughtfully to his stories.

Letting his eyes slip closed, Kaidan recalled with impressive clarity how he had walked Sol back to her temporary quarters - how they had bit their tongues from laughing in the elevator while a couple of drunk asari quarrelled about a sexual conquest with a salarian commando, centuries earlier. At her door she had smiled at him, thanked him for the wonderful evening... then she had tenderly placed her warm hand on his arm and smiled. Her touch, combined with the alcohol, emboldened him, enough so that he leaned in to run a gentle caress down her jaw.

Kaidan had never specifically disliked aliens, but he had never found himself attracted to another species either. Well, asari sure, they looked just like human women... but never a turian. In that moment though, the graceful curve of her fringe, the delicate dip of her mandibles and the high arch of her brow seemed so undeniably feminine and beautiful. Without any warning, he was suddenly caught treading water in an ocean of intoxication, without any clue of how to proceed.

That had been when she'd tilted her head to the side and regarded him with that strange look. He couldn't quite read turian facial expression, so he waited patiently until she stated very plainly that she had a request. A request? The nervous look in her eyes had him intrigued and worried. '__Can I touch your hair?__' she had asked carefully, her eyes immediately widening as she tried to apologize for possibly offending him. It seemed like such a simple request, and Kaidan had smiled, happy to oblige. But as he tilted his head forward, he had been unprepared for what followed. He would never forget the way she slid off her right glove, her bare taloned fingers gingerly entering his soft hair. Their smooth points sent barely controlled shivers down his back as they slid across his scalp. Nerves tingling, it was the most intimate encounter he had experienced in months.

'__I've never felt anything like this before__', she had said softly. Neither had he. When he had asked if he could do the same, glancing up at her fringe, she gave the hallway an uncertain look, her mandibles revealing the hint of a smile. __'No, you can't__' she'd said and he'd felt the immediate sting of embarrassment... until she whispered __'...at least not in public...__'

Unfortunately, that evening had made every successive evening feel unbelievably lonely. It hadn't taken long for Kaidan to come up with some convincing reasons why he should return to Palaven, though his new role as a spectre inductee had made quick work of his scheming. Maybe it was for the best.

There was a chime from the door and Kaidan jumped guiltily. He quickly checked his omni tool to make sure he hadn't actually been dictating some sort of confessional message. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the door slide open to reveal Osaro standing politely at the threshold, apparently waiting for an invitation to enter. Waving him in, Kaidan willed himself to relax, trying not to be reminded of how the turian had knocked around the dock clerk back on Omega only a few hours earlier.

"Commander, I trust your message wasn't bad news?"

Kaidan shrugged. Professional, courteous, Osaro always strove to be the model turian, though the cracks were beginning to show. There was really no reason to keep him in the dark, especially if he were keeping tabs on all correspondence anyway. "Relations between the Hegemony and Earth are increasingly strained."

The spectre nodded respectfully, though clearly unsurprised, as he stepped into the room and placed a small foil package on the desk. Drawing his bare, taloned hand away revealed another levo food ration. Kaidan pressed his lips together in a strained smile at the turian's offering.

Next time he saw Garrus, he would have to be sure to thank him for the nuts... and maybe for having a sister.

"The concern of the Human Alliance is understandable," Osaro was saying, "though I wouldn't waste your time being too worried about it. Don't discount humanity's status as a full member of the council. You do not stand alone. The turians know who their allies are, as do the asari and salarians. The batarians know this."

"You sound so certain," Kaidan mused as he inspected the container of questionable food the turian had placed before him. 'Cherken an rike' it read – cherken? rike? He wasn't sure which sounded worse. Setting down the package he regarded the spectre with total seriousness. "And what if we all face a greater threat than the batarians?"

Osaro didn't answer immediately, instead his eyes drifted past the seated human and held steady on a far off point. His chest heaved as he inhaled.

"We need to keep our focus on Shepard. I understand it can be difficult to arrest a former superior, but we must stay true to our course." It was hard for the turian's words not to remind Kaidan of how their roles as spectres could be so easily reduced to little more than that of galactic sanctioned bounty hunters.

"Have you ever had to do it? Arrest a superior?" Kaidan asked his mentor's turned back. The turian nodded faintly.

"I have."

"Was it difficult?"

Osaro gave a small shrug. "He was an admiral in the hierarchy. He became sympathetic to a group of neo imperial rebels and defected." Kaidan's mind was attempting to fill in the blanks when Osaro turned to him. "He had been my first commanding officer out of the academy and I had known him for twenty three years. He sponsored two of my children for special training scholarships and had, on many occasions, dined in my home, with my family. Unfortunately his actions were putting lives in danger." Osaro's mandibles twitched ever so slightly. "I was unable to take him alive," he concluded stoically.

This out pouring of personal information from his mentor was more than Kaidan had received for their entire partnership. Osaro had children? A family? It was impossible to really know based on his expression how upsetting this act had been for him, though if it did upset him, Kaidan doubted he would let it show.

"His death was necessary?"

"Unavoidable," the turian clarified. "As spectres we must embrace all extremes. Cuts heal, memories fade, but one cannot put a price on lives."

"Even Shepard's?"

"Even hers."

They regarded each other for a moment before Osaro finally nodded. "There's another nine hours until we reach Alliance space. I will keep you notified of any information I receive."

As the door closed behind the spectre, Kaidan tore into the bag of nuts, a slightly bewildered look on his face. Osaro's confession hadn't been much of a pep talk. As the Alliance commander began wolfing back the nuts, he hoped his mentor would come to the same realization he had-

That the fox was long gone, and beyond the foaming snorts of the weary horses, a terrible storm was brewing.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

__It had been almost thirty five hours of focused firefighting. The adrenaline that had kept him sharp in the beginning of this mess had worn off long ago, leaving his body hollow and stiff. Empty heat sinks littered the floor and he kicked them away as he clawed the ground, searching for a full one, his eyes never leaving the bridge. Finding what he was looking for, he tried to slam home the fresh cartridge, but it slipped from his numb fingers and tumbled back to the floor. The heavily armoured turian grunted as he bent down and fumbled for another, this time being sure to carefully set the cylinder. __

__Rolling the cramps out of his shoulder, he brought the scope of his rifle to his eye in time to catch more gun fodder as it hopped over the jerry-rigged barricade that blocked his last remaining exit.__

__Not that it really mattered at this point. __

__Archangel had known for some time that the mercenary gangs wanted him dead, but he hadn't quite grasped the immensity of their desire until now. __

__A few pops from his rifle added to the bodies piling up along the bridge, one of the mangled combatants crying out in agony, clutching his wound as he toppled over the side. Archangel grimaced. It was not a clean shot. Having always insisted on surgical kills with as little distress as possible, it was clear his fatigue was making him sloppy - and now people were beginning to suffer for it. __

__The battlefield was once again quiet, but the turian waited patiently just to make sure. From what he could see through his scope, it appeared his opponents were reassessing their strategy. It was about time they made the connection between the piles of bodies and their uninspired plan of attack. Satisfied there was no imminent danger, Archangel rose from his spot against the window and grabbed a stim injector. In the beginning he'd checked each one religiously, making sure he was not about to inject himself with a potentially lethal dose of levo stims. Now, he was far from caring. Rolling back his glove, he played another round of stim roulette as he popped the top and pressed the injector against the soft flesh of his wrist. The world brightened in an instant, his mind and lungs clearing as though he'd taken a deep breath of cool air on a brisk morning. Part of him rejoiced in having not inadvertently poisoned himself, while another part of him was secretly disappointed. __

__His nose wrinkled and he sighed, riding the stimulant high, taking in the immediate sensory bombardment of his surroundings - the tingling of every muscle in his strained body, the stench of death that hung like a curtain around him, and beyond that, each metallic, acidic note in Omega's hazy atmosphere, each clank and hiss from the pipes and beams, the bass heavy music from some far off place, the crackling static of sleep deprivation in his ears - they all sang together in one brief moment of euphoria. __

__Clenching his fists, his gloved talons dug into his padded palms as the sound of his heart pounding in his ears grew louder. Spurred by the powerful drug cocktail now coursing through his veins, he returned to the window, his keen eyes surveying the body strewn battle field. __

__Everything seemed calm, then just below him, movement... the hint of a shadow. He blinked. Could he have truly been so careless?__

__Archangel spun around just as a soft clatter came from below. Quickly abandoning his vantage point in the crew quarters, he headed towards the stairs. Rifle raised, he carefully scanned the main room below. It only took a moment for his visor to pick up a heat signature and the sound of a racing heart beat from direction of a bullet chipped pillar. Slowly, a shaky gun peaked out from behind; the merc's eyes were wide, the rest of his face covered by his helmet. He waved his pistol around wildly as he approached the staircase, clearly aware none of his comrades had made it. Concealing himself at the top, Archangel waited quietly for the human to make his ascent. __

__Silently counting each footfall of his foe, the turian fought off the murmured warnings from the familiar voice in his head. __

__You're getting sloppy, Officer Vakarian. Forgetting to reset the perimeter alarm? Letting your enemies make it this far into the complex? The Alliance would never tolerate such oversights, and I doubt the turian military would either.__

__Unfortunately, making a last stand meant these moments were inevitable. No doubt they would only increase in frequency until his exhaustion overcame him. __

__No, he couldn't think about that. The enemy never sees the back of a good turian... He'd never considered himself to be a good turian, but maybe in the end he could be one after all.__

__A boot appeared on the top step and Archangel burst out from his hiding spot, knocking the unsuspecting mercenary backward, sending him tumbling down the stairs in a clatter of armour and weapons. Fuelled by the chemicals in his blood, he met him at the bottom, planting a few hard elbows to the man's face before pressing a boot against his neck and prying off his helmet. The turian took a quick breath at what he saw.__

__Brown hair, damp with sweat and blood hung loose from where it had been tied behind the woman's head. She was taking hard breaths, her bright blue eyes wide as she surely believing she was living her final moments. __

__Archangel had lived moments like those before, and maybe at one time he could have empathized.__

__"Who's organizing this slaughter?" Archangel demanded, grabbing the woman by the collar of her armour. The stims cemented his strong grip, making her feel as light as if she were made of air. Hauling her up, she clawed at his gloved hands as he gave her a hard shake. As she blinked the sweat and blood from her eyes, she tried to form an understandable answer that might appease her subjugator.__

__"Blood Pack, Blue Suns... E-e-eclipse...," she stuttered, "they're working together to kill Archangel. Please... that's all I know!"__

__"And which outfit are you with?" he demanded gruffly. She glanced at the yellow symbol on his bicep and let out a strained cry.__

__"No one! I only freelance. The merc gangs are hiring anyone with a gun and I needed the extra cash!" The woman started coughing and the turian let her fall back to the ground. She rolled onto her stomach, her coughs hard enough to make her gag. Expanding his pistol, he pressed it into the back of her head. She froze, on all fours, head facing the ground. __

__"How did they do it? How did they find this place? How did they know how to strike us?!" He was yelling now, though still occasionally glancing to his left at the narrow bridge. No fresh meat yet.__

__"I don't know!" she pleaded, trying to look back at her captor, but each time she did so, Archangel pressed the pistol more firmly against her skull. __

__Don't forget, she came here to kill you...__

__"You're lying," Archangel hissed as he kicked a boot into her side, sending her tumbling over. Still on the floor, she scrambled to face him, pressing her back against the nearby wall, her eyes desperately switching between tracking the barrel of his gun and trying to read the expression on the turian's face. "Your loyalties aren't with them," Archangel continued more evenly, some part of him reminded of Shepard's more calming approach to witnesses. He was just barely able to say the words without yelling. "Tell me what you know."__

"__What does it matter? Either way I'm dead," the woman sobbed violently.__

__Killing her now, after looking her in the face would feel too much like murder, but he couldn't afford to think that far ahead. She was coming here to kill me, he repeated to himself. __

__Realizing she still hadn't answered his question, he whipped the butt of his pistol across her jaw, sending her back to the floor in a spray of red blood. It was like he was acting purely on instinct and impulse now.__

"__You'll determine how difficult this has to be," he threatened.__

__The mercenary squeezed her eyes closed, her tongue running over her cracked bottom lip as she sat back up. She seemed to be stalling, whether it was to come up with a lie or to extend her own life, Archangel couldn't be sure. When her eyes opened they shone like wet stones. Her bottom lip quivered as she spoke.__

__"Eclipse. They had an informant. A turian."__

__"What turian?"__

__"I don't know. He was meeting with Garm, Tarak and Jaroth. They were looking at schematics or plans or something."__

"__Was he restrained? Did he look like he'd been beaten?"__

"__I don't know! All I know is they let him walk away..."__

__"What do you mean?"__

__"They let him go... and he left the station," she had been fidgeting as she spoke, but he hadn't noticed - his mind too alive with possibilities.__

__"What did this turian look like?" Archangel demanded, but he was already putting the pieces together. The woman hesitated to respond, and the turian leaned forward and yelled, "What did he look like? Did he have purple markings? ANSWER ME!"__

__"Yes, maybe. I only saw him leaving!" she gasped, "purple markings, sure... they called him Sidon-"__

__Rage boiled up inside of him. Maybe it was the stimulants, or the hours of endless violence, or perhaps the emotional storm clogging his mind - but only one thing was clear.__

__Betrayal. __

__The hollow, echoing sound of gun fire startled Archangel, and he spun around, gun raised, to face a fresh onslaught of advancing mercenary troopers. But the bridge was hauntingly empty. Quickly, he turned back to his hostage, expecting to find her scrambling for a weapon, but his heart lodged in his throat. Lowering his pistol, he stared down at where she lay limp against the wall, her empty eyes open in shock. Scarlet blood dripped from her mouth, now left unchecked by the dirty, worn glove she had been nursing it with. __

__Having already killed so many, this one should have been no different, but he found himself frozen in place. It took all of his strength of will to check her wound, before grabbing her wrist to confirm what he already knew. __

__It was as he expected. __

__Despite all of his efforts, he had failed to do the one thing Shepard had built her entire life on. Protect the innocent. He came to Omega convinced he could do it. Spirits, he had tried... Now, it seemed to be the innocent that were paying for all his good deeds, tenfold. His team, their families, even the freelancers - they were just civilians that could hold a gun and needed to pay off some debts. Given the chance and with enough money, the mercenary gangs would surely throw every last citizen of Omega into the sights of his scope until Archangel was dead.__

__Whatever part of Shepard lived on in him had screamed for him to leave that place when he had the chance, but instead he had chosen to sit upon the mountain of bodies like a demonic demigod, taking as many mercenaries to the grave as he could. Now the game had changed, but he had backed himself into a corner. He was suddenly reminded of a human game that had become popular among turians, one he had seen Shepard teaching Tali. Two sides with different pieces, a battle of white versus black, of competition of strategy and patience. Butler had tried to teach him, but he had been too distracted by bleaching Omega clean to spend much time playing. __

__He had, however, learned enough to know that this was surely what they described as check-mate. __

__There was no way to pursue Sidonis - no way to avenge his teammates. No way to fight for Shepard's memory. No way to make life for Omega's citizens better. His final stand had been reduced to the defence of an open grave, each bullet causing a meaningless, empty death - the true target, his betrayer, was well beyond the reach of his scope. __

__His team...It was such a waste. Their lives, his life, everything they had worked for. __

__Maybe it would take a few days, maybe a week or a month, but eventually his true identity would be revealed and his family would receive word that his desiccated body had been found in a dirty Omega back alley. Or, if he were lucky, perhaps the mercs would space his corpse instead. It seemed fitting and was probably more than he deserved.__

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

Shepard's eyes flew open, her fingers gripping for anything solid, only to find the smooth surface of the ships main control dash. Dreaming... she had only been dreaming...

Her mouth was dry and open, and for a moment she wondered if she had been screaming. Casting a quick glance at her companion, she was relieved to see him still asleep, his head drooping to the side, left mandible trapped between his cheek and the ridge of his cowl while the other one quivered slightly. His hands had stilled where they had last been cradling her feet in his lap. Shepard took a deep breath.

Bad dreams were not a new occurrence, and although sometimes Garrus' presence was enough to ward them off, ever since she had accepted Liara's offer, the flavour of her dreams had changed.

__It is impossible to predict how this will affect your mind. __The asari's words echoed in her mind like a gypsy curse.

How disappointed she had been after the exchange, that there seemed to be no immediate change or great moment of clarity and understanding about her turian lover. But these new dreams... at first she had brushed them off, but they held a foreign element of strangeness she found unsettling. They were so detailed and exact, it was almost as though she were watching a vid, her eyes not her own... nor were the feelings. They had been confusing alien places, unfamiliar conversations and people, usually turians. Then she had dreamt of the Citadel, the horror and chaos - an inconsolable Joker. She knew exactly what she was seeing, but why?

At first she was convinced she was searching for Garrus; some sort of stress dream where their roles had reversed - that he had died and she had been unable to save him. Then she had realized it...

It was she who was dead.

From there it wasn't a huge leap to guess whose eyes she was looking through. As each dream blossomed, so did her nauseating guilt. Such a violation of Garrus's thoughts and memories, there was no good excuse for it. Still, part of her welcomed the dreams, the pain and fear feeling more real than any video she could watch from the shadow broker's archives. Feeling his pain brought her closer in a way she couldn't or was unable to do on her own. She could only assume she dreamt of his happiness also, although those dreams rarely woke her. Still, each vision offered a glimpse into the soul of the turian beside her, her lover - her mate.

Mate...

The word sounded strange in her mind and she mouthed it silently to her reflection in the viewing windows, now dark with the nothingness of space beyond. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the pendant resting between her skin and her heartbeat. A vow of flesh. She glanced over at Garrus, the plate on the centre of his hand grown back and healed, its surface tinted a deep red. The colour of her blood.

As if her blood were on his hands.

Immediately she wished him awake, as clearly being left alone with her own thoughts took her down undesirable paths. There would be lots of time for reflection once she was taken into custody. Damn, another topic she couldn't bear to consider.

Turning her eyes back to the viewing windows, she willed herself to relax.

When she was young, space travel had always seemed wonderfully exciting. Tales of adventure and mystery, aliens and exotic locations... As it turned out, the excitement was somewhat exaggerated and only the aesthetically pleasing parts were shown in the vids. After joining the Alliance, she had quickly learned that the reality of it was tedious - long stretches of darkness interrupted by short, bright burst through relays.

Company made all the difference. Company and sleep.

Their faces were lit by the dim orange blue glow from the Lixos's dormant main controls, the disconcertingly peaceful expression on her pale face reflected in the viewing windows. Did she always look like this? So calm and collected? Shepard's fingers touched her cheek, imagining for a moment the synthetic devices hidden beneath. Sometimes she felt like so many pieces, held together by such tenuous fibres, they might break without warning.

Earlier, Shepard had fallen asleep to Garrus' musings about how humans had such soft fleshy feet, so many toes which served no purpose, so fragile and small. He had looked down at them fondly and explained that hers were not just any feet. They were feet that had saved millions of lives, feet that had carried Shepard through hard battles and spontaneous firefights. So much of her was like that - deceivingly fragile.

Deceivingly fragile. She hadn't quite decided how she felt about that.

For some time she let her eyes scan the horizonless landscape of vast nothingness that spread out before them, letting her mind be distracted by its comforting monotony.

Eventually, his fingers began to move again. Awake, Garrus' eyes were scanning the gauges, while his hands continued to cradle her feet, his thumb pressing into the delicate curve of her arch. She let out a soft sigh.

"Who knew turians gave such good foot massages," Shepard smiled, her eyes drifting closed as the small digits on her foot gripped his finger. She heard him chuckle, and she recalled how he had described her toes as 'weird tiny foot fingers' and how bizarre it was she could grab things with them. "My own personal masseuse. This must be a dream," she continued, enjoying the gentle pressure of his hands.

"I don't know what I would do if it was." His tone caught her off guard and out of the corner of her eye she caught the plates of his brow pressing together for a moment. When he noticed her watching he gave her a small smile. "I don't think I'd ever want to wake up."

In that moment she wanted to tell him everything, to confess what she had taken from Liara. How she had violated his privacy. To tell him a million times that the burden of their pain could be shouldered together. That even though she would be taken away, they would still be with each other...

The thought of it suddenly struck her heart, and she blinked away the sting in her eyes, thankful for the dim light. It was a confession for another time.

"Garrus, what do you dream of?" Shepard asked slowly, her eyes glued to the darkness outside. He cocked his head curiously.

"Oh I don't know," he answered vaguely. Shepard gave him a somewhat pained look and he shrugged. "If you're asking me about nightmares, sure, sometimes, though usually I experience more of a waking horror."

Waking horror. That didn't sound all that pleasant. As much as she wanted to asking him more, it was clearly not something he was keen to talk about.

"What about you? What do you dream of, Shepard?"

In her mind his question was longer. Did she still dream of her death? Of hundreds of thousands of voices screaming out in unison as she exterminated them in an inferno brought on by the single press of a button? Did she dream of the millions of liquefied colonists on the collector base? Of Ashley, spending the last moments of her life watching the Normandy leave her behind, or the faces of all the men that died beside her during the blitz? Did she dream of her parents, violently torn from her by batarian salvers? Of course she did.

But how would she tell him she dreamt of his own horrors now as well?

His hands had paused, and she realized she had been silent for too long. He watched her carefully, trying to read every alien nuance of her expression. In lieu of an answer, she crawled onto his lap, letting her legs hang down on either side of him. His mouth threatened the question again but she stilled it with the soft pressure of her lips.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

"Just act nervous. Humans all look alike to turians, so as long as you act as unlike Commander Shepard as possible, you'll be fine."

She could never have guessed Garrus could be full of such stellar advice. Act nervous? Shepard didn't need to act. For the first time in a long time she felt a terrible sense of apprehension. It's not like the scales hadn't been tipped so far out of her favour before, or that she hadn't needed to perform under pressure. No this time... this time it was personal. It was for her - for them - she had something to lose now.

Parallel rows of large stone pillars met in angled arches high above them, the dimpled, light blue glass that ran the length of the main room ceiling glittered under the angry eye of Palaven's sun. The design reminded Shepard of the Presidium, and she briefly wondered when it was built. "I still think I should have died my hair," she muttered as her attention moved to the bustling crowd below - her eyes cataloguing the other people shuffling through the Palaven customs port. Not just turians, but asari, humans and a few salarians - many of them looking weary from travel. Most were in envirosuits, but others like her, wore radiation resistant, lined clothing. Not cheap, and Shepard was glad she hadn't been required to pay for hers. Cerberus saves the day again...

"Remember, polite and timid," Garrus suggested, "as nonthreatening and uncommander-like as possible."

Polite and timid... Right.

"It's been a few years since I graduated from acting school," Shepard answered wryly as she caught the attention of a couple of young turians nearby. Their eyes glittered as they giggled, whispering and watching her shyly. What a sight she must be. Garrus was snickering at her comment, not noticing the way she wiggled her hands at the children, their eyes wide with shock at the cluster of untaloned digits.

Looking at the line forming behind them, Shepard was subconsciously cataloguing the crowd until she met a pair of eyes she realized belong to another human. Quickly she looked away. Had she looked away too quickly? It suddenly became clear that any one of these people might recognize her. What if Liara hadn't cleared their IDs? What if she hadn't been able to corrupt Garrus' DNA profile in the hierarchy's security databases and they would catch on that he was using a fake ID? They could be found out right there and it would all be over.

They had made it through two ship side check points, docked at the orbital wayfaring station and taken the civilian transport planet side. With only one final security check, it seemed like their well earned vacation was within reach.

Someone was talking.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?"

There was a jab to her side, and she realized Garrus was poking her in the direction of the waiting customs official.

"Oh sorry," she muttered, stepping forward. The turian tapped the side of his head, and she realized he was looking at the sunglasses she was still wearing. She folded them and slipped them into her jacket pocket.

"Place your hand in the scanner," the uniformed turian requested, his tone professional but with a definite hint of laziness, as if he were more concerned with how much time remained of his shift. What was that look he was giving her? Curiosity? Suspicion? Hadn't she been good at reading turian facial expressions? The officer in questions cleared his throat and gestured at a glowing box. It was covered in simple diagrams made to overcome any unforeseen language barriers, as unlikely as that was. It clearly depicted a hand, minus a few fingers, going into the box.

__Timid and polite, timid and polite__, Shepard repeated to herself.

"Yes, let me just..." she fumbled with her glove momentarily before placing her hand in the scanner. This was ridiculous. She was Commander Shepard god damn it. Once upon a time she could have shown up here, waved her credentials around and stormed her way to the Primarch's office, dressed in krogan armour if she wanted to, and with a dozen naked asari carrying her on a gold encrusted, hollowed out prothean beacon.

How things had changed...

There was a promising beep, and the lackadaisical guard gestured for her ID. It had been a long time since Shepard had been subject to the mundane bureaucracies of civilian life. She bit her lip as she watched the essence of her false life brought up on a large holographic display, the images and characters reversed from where she was standing. Not that she could have read them anyway. Still, it was an impressive amount of bullshit. She would have to send Liara a nice thank you card.

"I see it's your first time to Palaven. How long will you be staying?" the overly uninterested guard asked. He seemed to have perked up somewhat, and Shepard flashed him a friendly smile as he glanced between her and the image projection. Why was it that customs officials always made you feel like you were doing something wrong by visiting their planet?

"Three days."

He fiddled with his terminal for a moment. "That seems like an awfully short time after having come all this way."

"I wish I could stay longer," she admitted truthfully. That earned her a slight smile from the turian as he passed her portable ID back to her.

"Human female. Search booth fourteen." He pointed to a black curtained box nearby.

"Uhh search booth?"

He nodded dryly. "Palaven customs authority has the right to search all first time, incoming visitors of any species."

As she started towards the questionable booth, Shepard gave Garrus a wide eyed look over her shoulder. He nodded supportively, raising his hand to give her an enthusiastic peace sing with his hand. He probably meant to give her the thumbs up. Despite the hours of space travel, he hadn't quite mastered the art of human hand gestures, but at least he was trying. His turian hand was rather limited to the number of human hand signals she could teach him.

Reaching the booth, she pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. Another uniformed customs guard - but this one a human woman.

"Turians might not have any shame, but at least they knew enough to put curtains up," the woman joked as she gestured to a clothing hook on the low, semi permanent wall.

__Shit shit shit. Does she recognize me?__

Given the chance for a good look, it seemed she didn't. Shepard sighed inwardly with relief. At least it wasn't a female turian. Something about showing her bare tits to one and having to field any funny bump questions would have almost been as much as she could take. Trying to hide her uncertainty, she began to peel off her clothing.

"Business or personal?"

"Sorry?" Shepard answered distractedly as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"I'm guessing you didn't come to Palaven for the beaches..."

"Oh, uhh no. Personal." Looking up she noticed the woman was staring. Shepard followed the angle of her eyes down to the pendant hanging from her neck, the metal so warm she could no longer feel it against her skin. Without realizing it, she had wrapped a fist protectively around the small object.

The woman gave a knowing smile. "I see you're in deep. Heh, yeah, I've got one of my own."

"Oh?" Shepard was trying hard not to look the woman in the face as she slid off her pants and lay them over the back of a nearby chair. Most of her skin was exposed now, and no doubt it was telling its own story. Cerberus implants did a good job keeping her alive, but they didn't completely erase old scars... or new ones. Whatever the guard thought of them, she kept it to herself.

"Yup... when in Rome," the guard mused as she slipped Shepard's ID into her terminal. "Not all turian's approve, so don't be surprised if you encounter a little hostility. It's not always a race thing, mostly it's just bad blood still lingering after the FCW - they're sore losers, you know. " The guard smiled as she gestured for Shepard to turn in a circle. "Damn, you know, you look a lot like Commander Shepard."

Shepard held her expression in check with an iron fisted will, her next words having been planned out since leaving the fuel depot - just in case. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot lately. I think it's my new hair cut," her tone was a lighthearted laugh, partially for the act as well as trying to convince herself this wasn't the end. Below the act she quivered, anticipating the chaos of Citadel strike forces and asari commandos storming the building and tearing down the booth's paper thin walls. Just as the high octane brew of hormones hit her body, the woman passed Shepard her ID.

"Welcome to Palaven, Sarah Moore. Since this is your first time here, I recommend you check in with the environmental safety kiosk for some pamphlets and free sun screen."

"Ok thanks," Shepard replied casually, trying to suppress the stunned look threatening to claim her face. She needed to get dressed and get the hell out of there. Sliding on her pants, she quickly reached for her jacket, fumbling with it as she turned to leave.

"Wait-" the woman said with some force from behind her, and as she turned, Shepard had a moment of horrified realization.

In her rush, she hadn't heard the jingle of metal hitting the stone floor. Now, the other woman was bending down to pick up the tags that must have slipped out of her jacket pocket.

Shepard's heart constricted, her lips parting - a thousand excuses on the tip of her tongue, but all of them sounded flat when she rehearsed them in her mind. The security officer's eyes ran briefly over the tags before offering them. Shepard took them numbly and slipped them into her pocket, nodding a silent thanks as she counted her blessing that the other woman hadn't looked too closely at the inscription.

Berating herself for such a stupid move, though realizing how unbelievable lucky she was, she had just reached for the curtain when the guard spoke again.

"Good luck, Commander."

Her eyes widened as she stepped out of the booth and back into the light.

Garrus was just getting his ID back. Clearly she was doing a good job of concealing her horror as he gave her a happy cock of his head and twitch of his mandibles when he saw her. She glanced around. No sirens, no police, no turian elite forces or asari commandos dropping through the glass ceiling. Not only had Liara had come through for them - coming up with IDs that would stand up to Council Space Security Standards, but perhaps they even still had some allies. Maybe not everyone believed she was vile person she was beginning to feel like.

Shepard gave Garrus a relieved smile. Their freedom was almost within their grasp. But just as he sauntered towards her, something in the crowd behind him caught her attention. As her eyes focused past him, she saw something that made her heart stop.

Across the wide expanse of polished stone floor and high columns was a well dressed turian. She had noticed him earlier, his formal attire seemed to be at odds with the rough look in his face and eyes. Now he was taking long, confident strides towards a group of turian school children. It wasn't so much his dress, his face or his walk that had now caught Shepard's attention, but the object he was attempting to conceal in his hand.

Without realizing it, she had dropped her bag. Taking several long strides, she threw herself past the customs official, her athletic form dodging the obstacles in her way.

"GUN! That man has a gun!" Shepard yelled, hurling herself in the direction of the armed turian. Everything seemed to slow down in that moment, the only thing she was certain of was her training and the voice in her head that was screaming for action. Completely unaware of the shouts and commotion around her, she was only conscious of the languid way the sea of people parted and dropped to the ground instinctively in a wave before her.

The grey, plated arm rose, dark talons and white knuckles gripping the pistol, and for a brief moment Shepard met the turian's wide orange eyes. In that instant she knew she wasn't going to make it. Finger squeezing the trigger, Shepard could feel the pit of her stomach drop with the terrible realization. Too far away. Too far. She cried out in anger, frustration and then...

...something unexpected happened.

There was a numbness, then a burning in her arm, she felt it crackling down to the tips of her fingers and in the same moment the turian's gun was wrenched upward in a flash of blue biotics just as the first shots were fired. It was the extra bit of time Shepard needed to tackle the turian, tumbling with him to the ground under a shower of debris falling from the ceiling.

It wasn't much of a struggle for her to wrestle the gunman into submission and kick the weapon from his hand. As the gun slid across the floor, the previously garbled shouts and screams suddenly came into sharp focus as the confusion descended upon her. Many in the crowd had run, but security and the few brave and curious onlookers were gathering around. From the floor and through the legs of the spectators, Shepard caught sight of the school children as they were whisked away. She sighed in relief.

As the hysteria died down, she realized the voices around her were muddled, the thick, flanged voices of the turians speaking in slick consonants and long vowels so utterly foreign she could not follow them. There were warm, familiar hands on her shoulders as the turian below her was dragged away. Frowning, Shepard ran a hand over her head, expecting to feel the sticky dampness of blood or a tender spot before realizing she had not hit her head, but had lost her translator. The familiar hands belonged to Garrus, who was helping her to her feet.

Concern registered clearly in the unfamiliar words slipping from his stiff lips as his hands not very subtly searched her for bullet holes. Standing on twitchy legs, Shepard self-consciously pulled her scarf back around her head as she searched the ground for her translator. Dozens of eyes in the growing crowd, any one of which could potentially recognize her. She and Garrus needed to get out of there.

"I've lost my translator," she whispered under her breath and Garrus' eyes flickered across the ground as he made a sound Shepard couldn't identify as a word or a distraught sigh.

Another turian voice was addressing her now, then another, two turian security officers, their tone serious and expressions suspicious. Garrus was quick to step in, his mandibles pressed firmly against his face and his brow pinched. His hands were in motion as he spoke, clearly trying to explain the situation. Their conversation sounded tense and Shepard felt her apprehension double.

Not knowing what they were talking about was unbearable.

"Turians aren't always the grateful type. Be a hero, and it's what they expected from you all along. And they always get stuck on the details." The voice coming from behind her was the only understandable sound Shepard could identify in the noisy chatter. Turning, she found the woman that had stripped searched her moments before.

"Details? I saw the man had a weapon and I reacted," Shepard began, but the woman shook her head.

"They're claiming you used biotics to stop the gunman, but that you're not registered. They're disputing your documentation." Shepard began to shake her head and the woman gave her a sympathetic shrug, her eyes containing an unsettling look of knowing. "Biotics have to be registered."

"But I'm not a biotic," Shepard explained, making eye contact with the two uniformed turians arguing with Garrus. It was a half truth at best. Mordin and Chakwas had been looking at removing the Cerberus implants, and in the mean time Samara had been helping her learn, but mostly to suppress the skill. Clearly she didn't have the control she had thought - though in this case, what else was she supposed to have done? Those same biotics had just saved lives.

A younger turian, also in uniform stepped up beside them, his outstretched hand offering Shepard a new translator. She thanked him as she opened the package and slipped the tiny earpiece into place and caught the last bit of Garrus' sentence.

"- it was clearly the gunman trying to prevent her intervention. I think we should all be thankful she was more vigilant then the security detail that should have been monitoring the area. I doubt the district customs security commander would be too impressed that a human tourist had to pick up his officers' slack."

There was a long exchange of glances, Garrus' steely gaze never drifting from the turian who was clearly in charge. His opponent finally sighed, his eyes drifting to Shepard.

"Nice work Ma'am. Your actions today surely saved lives," the security officer muttered gruffly, offering his hand somewhat awkwardly. Clearly it was an unnatural action for him, and one which he probably had only seen on vids. Shepard had barely begun to shake it before her companion's firm hands were wheeling her towards the door.

"I had to," Shepard whispered in response to the look Garrus was giving her as they stepped out into the shaded building entrance. Climbing into a waiting private transport, she couldn't help but sigh with relief as they lifted off, the customs building disappearing behind them.

"I know," Garrus replied, one hand on the controls, the other coming to rest on her knee. "You ok?"

"Yeah," she answered, swallowing the tension in her voice left by the rapidly diminishing adrenaline. Her gaze was distracted, the waning afternoon sun burning its last minutes on the bronze towers crowning the city of Urtros, their peaks rising and falling in a patch work of buildings beneath them. "I'm just a little shaky. It's easy to forget I'm not up to my neck in armour and high powered weaponry..."

Garrus only nodded, his eyes on the horizon. The coordinates of their destination were automatically guiding the transport's flight, so Shepard couldn't be sure if he was admiring a familiar view or offering her a respite from his concerned gaze.

"And the biotics?" He finally asked hesitantly. Shepard gave him a wary, sidelong glance.

"Frightening," she admitted. "I didn't do it consciously, I just knew I wasn't going to reach that gun in time- " she glanced down at her hands. "One more thing I don't have control of in life...Damn, Samara always made it look so easy." Shepard huffed out an unconvincingly casual laugh as she looked from her hands to stare down at the landscape of turian architecture as it began to thin out amongst rippling clumps of silvery foliage below. "A few days of personal happiness can never trump the lives of a few dozen children. "

"No of course," Garrus replied somewhat soberly. "Though... saving a crowd of school children definitely won't be bad for your reputation," he offered her a reassuring smile.

"I suppose not," Shepard agreed, squinting at the waning sun. "I can't believe we slept on the way here - now we'll be up all night. We certainly didn't time things very well."

"Who says?" Garrus' grin widened. "You aren't supposed to be out in the sun anyway."

A series of interrogative questions on the subject immediately entered Shepard's head, but the realization that they had possibly reached their destination instantly dissolved them all away. "Are we here already? I thought you said you were going to give me some warning?" Shepard rambled, a little wide eyed as she tried to catch a glimpse of the ground below. The transport was landing in a stone courtyard, in front of a cream coloured stone building covered with spiraling vines. The courtyard was mostly in the shade, provided by the drooping canopy of a erratically branched, silvery- blue leafed, ribbed tree. The tree seemed to be planted directly on the stone surface of the courtyard, it's mass poised on the tips of hundreds of vine like fingers.

Aliens she could handle. Alien worlds she could handle. Alien lover's families... she could probably handle... but weird ballerina vegetation... she was not so sure.

"Spirits Shepard, you look like you'd rather be fighting a thresher maw. Come on, I am certain this will be slightly less worse than what you're imagining."

"You think so, do you?" Shepard muttered, her eyes peering out the dark glass windows of the transport.

"It has to be a fraction better than sneaking on to the collector base," Garrus offered.

"Is it? Are you sure? I'm not so sure..." Shepard rambled, her mind actually weighing the pros and cons. Garrus paused, his hand on the door release.

"Wait... do humans vomit when they are nervous?... you're not going to vomit on my family are you?"

Horrified, Shepard looked at the turian and couldn't be sure if he were joking or not. If he was, he had clearly been working on his poker face. A mandible quivered with amusement and she shot him a scathing look of complete disgust. Garrus flashed her a quick smile, "that's alright, Dad and Sol both have good levo tolerance. It's why they got to work off world."

"And your mom?"

"Please don't vomit on my mom," he laughed as he slid out of the vehicle. Shepard gritted her teeth as she reached behind her seat for her bag.

__Come on, this is the least of the trials of your life. Soldier up or piss off.__

Someone was calling Garrus' name with unconstrained glee.

There was no turning back now.

'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'`'

__"I need your help." __

__She was peeling back the lapels of her uniform, the dark fabric sliding away to reveal a delicate collar bone and the shallow dip between her breasts. In these moments, the mask of her command melted away, making her seem impossibly feminine.__

__"Yes Shepard," he whispered, letting his eyes slip closed. His hands slid around her waist, creeping up the gentle ripple of her bare, muscled stomach and pushing the front of her uniform out of the way. "I want this... I need this..."__

__"I've missed you Kaidan," she breathed against his lips and he kissed her deeply. Passionately. The powerful muscles in her back rippled under his finger tips as she arched against him, bringing their bodies closer together. __

__Four hands, travelling, exploring - he found her skin was soft and strong... but as he touched it, it seemed to change. He discovered ridges, grooved valleys. When he kissed her cheek he found the supple line of her jaw had been transformed into the yielding curve of a mandible. Opening his eyes, he did not find the gaze of another human...__

__"Sol," he sighed her name almost like a confession, letting his hand navigate towards all the places he so desperately wished to worship... __

__There was a terrible beep that cut through the serenity of his lover's embrace, so foreign in its sound that he flinched. He tried to ignore it, letting his fingers run along the length of her fringe, relishing the way her eyes drifted closed in bliss. __

__"Alenko," his name was on her lips, but to his horror, the voice was a disturbing low, baritone flange.__

__"Sol..." he mumbled, pressing his face into the cradle of her neck.__

Kaidan's eyes cracked open, the vision of his dream lover evaporating in the dim light of the cramped cabin like rain in the desert. His face was pressed into his pillow and the bed sheets, which had become a tangled mess, fought him as he rolled onto his back with a tired groan.

"Commander Alenko," Osaro again barked over the comm. Fighting off the heavy, shadowy arms of sleep that still clawed at his consciousness, Kaidan pushed himself up, searching the spaghetti sheets until he found his shirt.

"Here," he replied wearily into the empty room as he glanced down at the only evidence of his somewhat confusing dream.

"We're making our approach to Eden Prime. Meet me in the comm room."

It wasn't really a request.

"Understood," he answered, and as the comm clicked off, he closed his eyes for a moment. Trying to regain the images of his dream, he slid his hand down the length of himself a few times, but it was no use. The cold, unfamiliar walls and the sound of Osaro's voice were too much. Instead he focused on tracking down his socks and patting the wrinkles from his uniform.

It took him a few minutes to make himself presentable, but eventually Kaidan stepped into the uncomfortable situation he had been expecting for hours. Osaro was waiting by the large comm viewing screen, probably to contact Eden Prime's Surface Security and Customs Officials. If the spectre was feeling like a prick, Kaidan figured he'd make him explain to the officials the vague and far reaching search parameters they were now basing their investigation on.

It was impossible to tell what sort of mood the turian was in. His back was turned when Kaidan entered, his attention clearly on a datapad he was casually thumbing. Coming closer, Kaidan guessed by the looks of the images and turian writing that the spectre was probably browsing the Palaven news headlines.

"Anything interesting?" the biotic asked, mostly out of politeness.

"Slow news day back home," the turian answered, "political scandals, colonial squabbling... oh and apparently some human tourist took down a gunman."

"On Palaven?" Kaidan asked, a little surprised. It wasn't exactly a hot tourist destination. Osaro nodded and offered up the datapad. Kaidan took it, a little curious, if not willing to play the part while they waited for a response on the vidcomm.

Sliding his thumb across the progress bar, Kaidan was still trying to shake the sleep from his mind as he skimmed the news report. There wasn't even any point asking about the possibility of coffee - he was even wishing for that mug of hot water now. Just as he was about to pass back that datapad he reached the amateur omni tool footage from the shooting aftermath. His surprise escaped him in a strangled choking sound as he watched the scene again, freezing the vid mid chaos. The hero tourist, her green eyes looking past a long scarf she pulled tight to hide her face, stared back at him.

He would recognize those eyes anywhere. Shepard was on Palaven. She had walked straight into the lion's den.

Looking up, Kaidan noticed Osaro had turned away from the comm controls. His eyes wide and lit up wildly like a startled animal.

"What did you just say?"

Kaidan hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud, and some part of him instantly regretted it. "Shepard," he repeated with stunned blankness as he passed the datapad back to the spectre. "She's on Palaven." The turian clutched the datapad with barely contained shock as he glared at the still image of his prey frolicking around in his own backyard.

"Are you certain?" the turian hissed darkly, his mandible dipping down in agitation as he studied the image.

Kaidan swallowed."Yes."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence as Osaro continued to stare intently at the datapad. Each moment that it continued, Kaidan grew increasingly uneasy. Without any warning, the datapad went crashing across the room."Damn it!" Osaro cursed, launching himself out of his chair in a rage. The vidcomm blinked, signalling the incoming transmission from Eden Prime, and the turian slapped an ungloved palm to cancel it before wheeling around and heading for the door. "Helmsman, set a course back to Palaven!"

Even as the door closed, Kaidan could hear the spectre's fading voice issuing clipped orders to the crew. Catching sight of the datapad, he picked it up, carefully brushing a hand across the damaged screen. Looking into the eyes of his former Commander, he shook his head regretfully, trying to block out the terrible knot forming in his stomach.

"I'm sorry Shepard."


	22. Chapter 22

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CHAPTER 22

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Their conversation was playing out like a silent film behind the transport's thick glass. An interaction made up of animated, if not slightly awkward gestures, and ghostly movements of their mouths and mandibles that revealed little about their spoken words.

Mutely she had let him exit the skycar first. Without a word, he knew this moment was for him, and she had no desire for her presence to taint his reunion with his family. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched two turians, one wrapping long arms around the taller one's broad shoulders, their silhouettes framed in the tinted windows of the vehicle. It struck her as the sort of hug people get when they come back from the dead – fuelled with the unshakable worry that this apparition might vanish just as easily as the fading memory it had spawned from.

She should have been all too familiar with embraces like that, after all, she'd had numerous brushes with death. But the reality was that this was an act reserved for family, friends and lovers – people who had been in short supply for most of her life. Her crew, even her team, was expected to honour the professional distance she had always tried to keep with her subordinates. She wasn't exactly batting a hundred where that was concerned, but living close to death blurs those lines – makes things once etched in stone nothing more than chalk in the rain.

It had turned out that people have a different reaction when you do something so unnatural as literally coming back from the dead.

Hugs were overrated anyway. At least that's what she'd continue to tell herself.

Mind lost in thought, Shepard abruptly realized she was still watching the two turians outside and guiltily turned away. Slouching a little in her seat, she let their muffled conversation dissolve into the background noise as she stared at her reflection in the glass window. Dark, heavily lined eyes watched back and Shepard realized she was still wearing all the makeup that had been slathered on before she had left the ship. Fumbling for her bag, she dug around until she found the dermal makeup pen and began removing the overzealous face Miranda had given her. Makeup had always seemed so trite to her, almost nauseatingly pointless. Or maybe she only felt that way because she wasn't any good at putting it on - it hadn't been in the curriculum at the academy.

Satisfied she had returned herself to normal, she stuffed the items away and glanced around the inside of the transport. To say she was nervous wasn't completely accurate. Years of desperate firefights, dire rescue missions and overwhelmingly weighted conversations with diplomats and galactic leaders had hardened Shepard's nerves. The stakes had always been high, but usually they had nothing to do with her... or her happiness, at least not on a personal level. Now, being there on Palaven, sitting in a private transport in front of Garrus' home, she was willing to admit she had a few doubts. The fact that her hands gripped her bag with the sort of strength that could crush a man's larynx was pretty telling.

Instincts, honed from years of military service were demanding she take cover – her eyes darting to nearby objects, evaluating defensible positions and things with which to shield her body from attack. She just needed a moment to deduce the weaknesses of her enemies and plot an offensive strategy.

Perhaps it would be easier to just carpet bomb the entire region.

Being a soldier was so easy - point, shoot, follow orders... keep your boots clean. Since she was sixteen those routines had been a comforting buffer between herself and reality. Being a supportive significant other was a different bag of wild varren all together. The fact that Garrus seemed just as terrible at it was only slightly comforting.

From the soft sounds of the voices behind her, Shepard figured her presence had, thankfully, still remained unannounced. Outside, the echo of the day's heat appeared to cling to every surface, even though Palaven's angry sun had long since dipped out of sight below the rocky horizon leaving only an orange hue on the landscape. Opening the skycar door let in a rush of warm arid air that chased the staleness from her hair and tickled her skin. Letting her eyes close, she drew in a long breath, the scarf around her face dropping away. Everything felt warm and alive, the dry breeze spiced with new scents - floral, earthy... exotic.

Swinging her legs out of the vehicle, she let her feet rest on solid ground, suddenly reminded how thin the soles of her civilian shoes were. Gone were her heavy boots and the constant feeling of the Normandy's grated metal floor - where each step she took sounded like the deafening beats of a clock, seconds of her life ticking by. It made her entire body ache - each foot fall reminding her how mechanical and false her existence was. Now her shoes scuffed against the stone that covered the courtyard and she let out a long sigh as the warmth radiated up through her legs. Maybe now she could finally shake off that chill she'd had since waking up on that cold laboratory slab.

God, that seemed so long ago.

A sudden desperation set in and she fumbled with her shoes, practically tearing them off. The warm air felt surprisingly cool on her exposed skin and she had to hold back a laugh, her heart fluttering for a moment as her eyes searched the horizon just to be sure the sun was well out of sight. When her feet touched the ground, she sighed, the stone deliciously rough beneath her toes. The tactile sensation had been so buried in Shepard's frankenstein mind that it was practically a new feeling altogether. She couldn't help but stare down at the ground, mesmerized, as her fingers twitched to hold her phantom weapon, like a lost appendage. She couldn't actually remember the last time she had been planet side without a gun, or even worn civilian clothing and just sat outside, doing nothing but enjoying the razor sharp immediacy of life losing its battle with time - it certainly hadn't been during this lifetime.

No ship, no crew, no responsibilities, no expectations. Right now she was no one. Just a woman, enjoying the world as it passed her by.

Without realizing it, she had begun taking slow, deliberate steps away from the transport, savouring the feel of each one, letting Palaven's alien environment fill her senses. It wasn't until her toes brushed up against something soft and alive that she paused, the feeling of the dampness against her skin immediately reminded her of the dream she'd often had.

__For so long it had always been the same.__

__Before her loomed a magnificent tree, its branches heavy with swollen fruit. But it wasn't ordinary fruit – its flesh and skin was made of gold, and the crisp spring light shimmered as it danced across its smooth curves.__

__In the wide expanse between her and the tree stretched a sea of broken glass, the jagged shards sparkling like fallen snow in the daylight. Beautifully sinister, it barred the way to the tree in every direction.__

Opening her eyes, she stared down at the silvery blue moss that squished up between her curled toes and spilled out over the tan stones of the courtyard. It almost seemed self-indulgent to be enjoying something so simple.

She deserved this, didn't she?

In front of her hung the end of a long branch, the tree it sprouted from looming high above. The curly, scooped shaped leaves glittered, even in the waning sunlight, as though touched by frost. At their base hung a bunch of heavy, semi transparent globes of water. She reached for one, the surface smooth but giving beneath her fingers, with a translucent quality that made it almost glow. Squeezing again, the sack strained, and she released it before it burst.

Beyond the moss at her feet and the trees and shrubs in the courtyard, criss-crossed some old stone walls that held back the immense woods that stretched back into the hills beyond. The wall of trees was like a creature unto itself, emitting a constant hum of life. A bird or animal called out in alarm off in the distance and a moment later another called back. Shepard felt her eyes scanning the shadowy span of wilderness, the more primitive parts of her brain on high alert. A commotion nearby sent a cloud of flying creatures fluttering up in a twisting mass before dissolving into hundreds of tiny dots that disappeared into the darkening skies.

Palaven's forests were very much alive.

By now the sun was nothing more than a red strip painting the boundary where air and ground met, with a few forlorn clouds dotting the sky. Unlike her dream, she could see no signs of an approaching storm.

From where she stood, the warm coloured stones ran to her right in a long column up to a main building, on either side they diverged into geometric patterns and paths, interspersed with spiky bushes covered in exotic flowers and more tall wispy trees, their branches drooping with sacks heavy with liquid. At their bases, their trunks seemed to end in a mass of thin fibrous roots that wrapped around stones and other trees like creeping vines. Strangely, a few of them seemed to have metal collars and chains wrapped around their bases. Whatever had been tied up there must have been large.

So much of what surrounded her felt familiar and alien all at once, just like her companion.

"Shepard."

The sound of her name in his deep, smooth voice was not jarring, but it was enough to drag her back to reality. Her eyes were fixed on the ground as his silhouette joined hers among the long shadows in the Palaven dusk. She took another step, the moss giving under her weight.

A warm hand entwined itself with hers - a bare, long fingered hand - the sight of which made her stomach flutter. Anywhere else the removal of his gloves would have been such a personal act, something that only happened behind closed doors as was required in so many places to protect the levo majority. On their approach to Palaven, he had casually removed his gloves and tucked them away, no longer needing them. She had found it difficult to take her eyes off his hands since.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly. She nodded, wiggling her toes in the soft moss. "You know... if that were the pink variety you'd get a terrible rash."

"It would be worth it," Shepard answered softly, giving her companion a sideways glance. He held her shoes in one hand, their bags slung over his shoulder. Although he was smiling, there was a note of concern in his eyes.

"Should I give you some time?"

"No... no I'm ok. Was that your sister you were speaking with?"

Garrus looked over his shoulder to where his sister had been standing, his eyes tracing the path she had taken back into the house. "Sol, yeah," he sighed, "she's put up with a lot these past few years. She was rather shocked to see me." He offered her back her shoes, and she reluctantly bent down to slide them on.

"Coming back from the dead can do that." Shepard gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

He grunted his response, tugging her closer so that her arm could snake around his waist. "I don't think she's as impressed with my scars as you are."

"Oh well, she's just not used to them," Shepard chuckled. She reached for her bag, but he refused to let go. She rolled her eyes at his chivalry. "Dad has company, so I suggested Sol let us in around back."

"Yeah..."

Garrus paused, obviously catching the change in her expression. "What is it?"

"I didn't want to tell you until we arrived. But I was recognized at customs by the woman who searched me. Though I think if she'd told anyone, I'd probably already be in handcuffs by now."

Garrus' brow plates pinched into a frown, his eyes glancing to the sky then back to their transport. "I thought if we made it here without incident, we would be safe. It's secluded and quiet, and no one would expect us to hide in plain sight. Although if anyone knows we're on Palaven, this will probably be the first place they'll look." Neither of them could help but pause and listen, straining their ears for the sounds of approaching shuttles or transports, but only the forest answered.

"Thank you for being here with me," he eventually said, his voice quiet, the intense way his eyes scanned the woods betrayed the way his hand sought out hers – there was urgency in his movements as though someone might steal her away at any moment. "I know you came because I pushed for it. So... thank you." She nodded silently in reply. They were both very keenly aware that these memories might have to last them through possibly countless years apart. His lips parted again, but instead of speaking he only smiled, tugging her along.

The stone path took them along the west side of the house, the edges practically walled in with more strange plants, which shivered and curled away reflexively as they brushed past. "Is Solana the gardener?" Shepard asked as she ran her hand along a row of them, watching the foliage react to her touch.

"No, Mom is the one with the muddy hands," Garrus answered, smiling at her fascination with the local flora. "She's out here a lot. The task of looking after the plants helps keep her active and coherent." He frowned then, glancing around. "The garden does look a little rough now that you mention it."

Shepard couldn't tell. It seemed wonderfully beautiful and whimsical to her. Several large trees towered high above them, their heavy sacks like water balloons, swayed in the light evening breeze with the hundreds of other tiny shrivelled ones lost amongst the silvery leaves and branches.

"Your father... any specific way I should address him?"

"I'm sure just Drusus is fine. If he makes you call him Err Vakarian, then we're in trouble," Garrus chuckled as they headed around the side of the building. "He's a reasonable, very well respected turian, but if he seems a little harsh or short with you, don't take it personally."

"I can only imagine what he's heard about me. I've been preparing myself for the worst."

"Dad isn't the type to just blindly accept one side to a story," Garrus explained, pausing for a moment along the path. He turned to face her, his uncertain expression light in the twilight garden. "But I should warn you, he holds humans to a certain level."

"Please don't tell me he was at Shanxi," Shepard begged, her eyes closing for dramatic effect.

"No, not involved in the conflict. Drusus' father was part of a group of scientists who followed up on the strike at the colony. He was there studying the human prisoners."

"Studying them?..."

"He wasn't a butcher or anything like that. Aetius was a behavioural scientist – part of a team consisting of linguists, xenologists, several biologists and doctors... and what not. You know, your standard 'found a new species' sort of team."

"So what happened?"

"When they realized the humans were returning to the system, the prisoners were evacuated to be used as leverage in later negotiations. Aetius and his team accompanied them. A year or two after the conflict, he was caught corresponding with one of the former human prisoners. Turns out they'd been carrying on some sort of romantic relationship. Twenty years ago the stigma was pretty intense, on both sides. The betrayal was hard on the family and Dad spent most of his life trying to make up for it. Part of him blames humans for the unhappiness that tainted their home life. "

"Wasn't Drusus already working at C-Sec by then?"

"But the animosity is still there," Garrus sighed. "Don't worry, he'll be just as unhappy with me. The last time we met face to face, we didn't part ways on very good terms."

Shepard nodded, letting the comment escape her without pressing him for details. Instead she placed a hand on his shoulder. "We've talked our way out of worse situations. We can only hope your dad doesn't decide to turn me in." They laughed a little uneasily, both trying to ignore the very real possibilities of that particular scenario.

While the front of the house had been fairly nondescript, large sections of the back opened out onto various raised stone courtyards. Warm lights lit the gardens and on the second story, illuminated large swaths of white fabric curtains that rippled gently where they had been pulled across to block the view inside. Coming out from the centre of the home was a covered corridor flanked by several large pillars and walled with long shards of red coloured glass. There was a dark figure moving inside, their silhouette twisting and breaking as they approached the exit. A light came on, and out of the shadows of the doorway appeared Solana.

She was dressed modestly, dark pants and a tunic with a design down one side that looked a lot like circuits. It had a high collar, which brushed against the gold chains that draped between her mandible and crest. She was taller than Shepard had expected, but her blue eyes and angled features clearly echoed something familiar. Her high brow and narrow face gave her a dignified, almost regal look. Frozen at the top of the stairs, Solana's expression suggested she had not realized there had been a human in the transport with her brother.

"Solana, I want you to meet someone," Garrus began a little too jovially. The sun having disappeared well below the horizon, Shepard didn't hesitate to pull the scarf down from over her head for the big reveal.

"Commander Shepard," Solana breathed in a heavy exhale before Garrus could finish his introduction. His sister was already descending the steps, offering a slightly awkward hand. Accepting the outstretched hand, Shepard was bewildered at being immediately reorganized.

"Yes, Solana, I've heard a lot about you," Shepard managed. It was sort of a stretch. Garrus rarely spoke of his family, whether it was the distractions of their high risk lives or a deep seated guilt he felt about being away for so long, she couldn't be sure. Solana's hand was the only other bare turian hand she had ever touched. Her handshake was actually quite confident - clearly she'd spent some time around humans.

"And I've heard quite a bit about you as well, Commander."

Somehow that sounded a little ominous.

"Unfortunately, I've found my reputation precedes me most of the time," Shepard replied, trying to sound as lighthearted as possible. Solana nodded a little stiffly before looking back at her brother.

"I'm sorry I couldn't let you know we were coming," Garrus offered diplomatically, and Shepard noted the unimpressed twitch of Solana's mandibles.

"Dad's going to have a heart attack," she stated rather flatly before turning and beckoning them to follow. "I think he's almost done with his guest." Beyond the large door, the glass walled hallway opened up into a foyer of sorts which was attached to what Shepard guessed must have been a kitchen. Around the corner was a medium sized sitting room, the dark, narrow windows running up the full length of the high walls. Solana called up the lights, which were stuck to the walls like glowing drops of water, before settling herself in an asymmetrical armchair.

The furnishings looked modern and sleek, but were made of wood, metal and what must have been soft leathers, all of which showed some definite signs of wear. The outer walls were a tan stone, bare of family photos or painted landscapes and instead hung with some very old looking flags and a few archaic helmets. At one end of the room was a large charred fireplace, but the flames were out and the stack of odd looking plant fuel appeared to have sat untouched for some time. Off in the distance, faint bits of conversation could be heard. No doubt Drusus was still chatting up his guest.

Looking up, Shepard followed the impressively tall windows up to the high glass ceiling. Clearly there was a pattern - all this glass was going to make day time indoors a little more hazardous than anticipated. Her concern hadn't gone unnoticed, and as she accepted Solana's invitation to sit, the female turian attempted to put Shepard at ease. "Don't worry Commander, tri layer glazed composite glass was installed three generations ago. It filters the rays of the trebian sun you would find harmful."

place used to see a lot more off world visitors," Garrus added as he casually ran a hand along the back of Solana was leaning forward in her chair, her eyes having not strayed once from the human before her. "Commander, I just want to thank you for bringing my brother home safely. We've been so worried about him these past few years."

"Garrus is a survivor. He doesn't need my help to stay alive," Shepard assured her. The subject of their conversation had been quietly wandering around the room. Occasionally he would pick up an object, as if comparing it to some imaginary catalogue in his mind. Or maybe he was just too wound up to sit. His restlessness was making Shepard uneasy. Now he had finally paused and was shaking his head dismissively. "No Sol, you got it right. She's the reason I'm still standing." He cast Shepard a meaningful glance. "I owe her my life."

"I don't doubt it," Solana agreed with a touch of resignation, "Dad always said your reckless streak would get you in trouble." Her less than subtle jab was not lost on her brother, but he offered no rebuke. Leaning back in her chair, she crossed her arms as her piercing turian gaze drifted from her brother, back to Shepard. Let the inquisition begin, Shepard thought, but instead, the faint murmurs of conversation from down the hall grew louder and the three paused in expectation. A door closed somewhere, followed by footsteps, like the executioner himself Shepard thought, it had foreshadowed the appearance of the sizable turian that now stood in the doorway. Drusus Vakarian seemed taller than Garrus, but it could simply have been the way he stood, like a man confident in every choice he'd ever made – it looked as though not even a reaper invasion would shake him. The markings on his face were similar to Garrus, still blue, but like Solana's, they were slightly different in shape.

Garrus' sister was suddenly on her feet, and Shepard quickly followed her lead, hyper vigilant of how out of place she was and desperately trying to pick up on unspoken turian social etiquette. Drusus was still frozen at the door, his fierce blue eyes taking in his company before coming to rest on Garrus, whose voice was the first to break the silence.

"Dad."

At the sound of the word, Drusus walked up to his son with determined steps, and Shepard thought she saw Garrus' shoulders square, as if preparing for military inspection or even bracing himself for a physical confrontation. They regarded each other for a long moment before, to Shepard's surprise, the elder Vakarian pulled his son into an intense embrace.

"Garrus," the older turian said gruffly, pulling back to look his son over, his eyes taking in the fresh scars. "It is good to see you mostly in one piece. We were beginning to wonder if you'd ever be back."

Garrus let his father's mild accusation roll of his back. "Time flies by when you're saving lives and trying to make the galaxy a better place. You know how it is."

Drusus' expressions remained impassive, clearly not buying into his son's flippant explanation, but not demanding a better one either - at least not yet. "It's good to see you. You certainly look like you've been busy." Their hands dropped back down to their sides. "I was troubled to hear about you leaving C-Sec... again."

"Dad!" Solana snapped, and Drusus' mandibles pulled tight to his face in a frown. There was an almost imperceptible shift as his gaze drifted past his son to the human standing behind him. Shepard put on her most confident disguise, making sure she was the only one who knew she felt like a naked salarian stranded on Tuchanka.

"Drusus Vakarian," the older turian nodded, his introduction accompanied by an open palm placed against his chest. Shepard floundered for a moment, having rarely encountered an apparently formal turian greeting. Thankfully he offered his hand. Another bare turian hand, though this one was somewhat larger than the last. His handshake was abrupt, but still somewhat friendly.

"Commander Shepard," she replied, her green eyes holding his.

"Yes... of course. I believe I should direct my questions to you concerning how my son misplaced part of his face?"

Was that a joke? It sounded like one... but no one else was laughing, and to start seemed inappropriate if even a bit risky. Shepard felt her mouth go dry as her brain stumbled over a suitable response, the moment stretching out far too long. Her eyes glanced over at Solana, who was conveniently looking away and covering the bottom of her face with her hand.

"I think that's a story best saved for later in our visit," Garrus cut in, and Shepard gave a relieved inward sigh. "It involves some angry mercenary groups and some poor strategic decisions on my part."

"Poor strategic decisions? That doesn't sound like you, Garrus," his father replied doubtfully.

"Well, I wasn't really myself at the time."

There was an uncomfortable pause, during which Shepard was at risk of revisiting those unpleasant memories... _that room... all those spent heat sinks, empty stim injectors, the bodies, Garrus on the floor bleeding out..._

Solana cleared her throat. "How long are you going to be staying with us?"

Garrus gave a dismissive shrug - an idiosyncrasy Shepard suspected he'd picked up from spending too much time with humans. He didn't even realize he did it anymore. "Shepard is only able to stay for three days. As for me... I haven't quite decided yet."

That's when it happened. In the heavy silence after Garrus' admission of indecision, Shepard felt her stomach give a low, very long rumble of hunger.

Oh god. Why, at that very moment, did her body choose to betray her? Just as she was hoping they hadn't heard it, the heads of the three turians in the room snapped in her direction. Shepard gave them a pained smile. "Umm sorry," she began, and as she spoke, an old familiar heat crept across her cheeks. Clearly her body was not finished embarrassing her.

"What was that? Is my translator glitching?" Solana asked, her previously aloof attitude instantly evaporating into concern.

Drusus only blinked, "it's been a while since I've spent any time around humans. I had forgotten your mammalian digestive systems communicate with you through sound."

There was a silent exchange of looks before Solana's eyes brightened. "Oh you're hungry!" she blurted as the answer dawned on her. Garrus cocked his head to the side in agreement and Solana's slender mandibles twitched as she considered this new information. Turian body language held subtleties Shepard doubted she would ever completely grasp, but at least their body parts weren't making random noises. Hopefully this would be the extent of their crash course in human physiology.

"Commander, are you sure you're alright? You appear to be changing colour," Solana added, the three of them still studying her. "I wasn't aware humans had pigment variable skin cells," she wondered aloud, turning to Garrus.

"It's an emotional response," he answered nonchalantly, "I've only noticed it in fair skinned humans."

"Yes, I believe it is related to the colour of their blood. It occurs when they are embarrassed, angry or aroused, for example," Drusus added in a formal, almost scientific manner. To Shepard's horror, the three turians all turned to look at her as if to get some sort of confirmation of this, but she could only stare back speechlessly. "Don't be embarrassed Commander. The galactic community is well aware of the lack of control you humans have over your own bodies."

If he had been anyone else, she was certain there would have been a witty retort on the tip of her tongue. As it was, she could only barely keep her jaw from hitting the floor. Was he calling her primitive? And since when had the entire galactic community believed humans didn't have control over their own bodies? It wasn't like they were dogs trying not to miss newspaper left in discreet corners of the presidium... was it?

At least he hadn't accused her of being aroused.

"Unless she is having some sort of allergic reaction," Drusus added, addressing his children before he turned back to Shepard. "Are you having an allergic reaction, Commander?"

"Really, I'm fine," Shepard choked out, her voice having gone a bit gravelly. She didn't want to know how red her face had become, especially since her skin felt like a hundred acre forest fire. If she had to guess the hue, it was probably closer to tomato rather than cotton candy. She couldn't remember the last time she had blushed. So many years of being in complete control of her emotions and physiological responses, dealing with both political and shadowy figures that wielded galactic influencing power - and in the end all it took were two members of Garrus' family to toss it all out the window.

She had to get out of this petri dish.

"Unfortunately Commander, our selection of levo food is rather limited."

"Please, call me Shepard. And it's no problem. I brought rations with me."

It had been a depressing thought, but rations were the easiest and practically the only food item they had been able to get through customs without drawing attention to themselves. Still, it was a small price to pay to stay below the radar and it was comforting to know there would be some snacks waiting on the Lixos for her return trip back to the Normandy.

"Rations?" Solana cut in, "no, no, let me see what I can put together. I can pick up some more items tomorrow when I go into Antara. Just give me a few minutes." She was already heading out of the room. Shepard gave Garrus a horrified look as images of antique Alliance rations brought home as souvenirs from Shanxi flash through her mind.

Her stomach clenched at the thought.

Garrus hesitated for a moment, looking between Shepard and his father, before deciding it was safer to help orchestrate Solana's good intentions then to bear witness to his father grilling his human lover. "Let me give you a hand, Sol," he called after her and disappeared into the hall. Alone, Shepard carefully let her eyes slide back to meet her remaining company's persistent stare.

What was worse... having to politely eat questionable food and then possibly dropping dead in a pile of her own vomit caused by lethal dextro poisoning? Or an interrogation by a retired, hardened turian c-sec chief whose only son you dragged all over the galaxy, had his face partially blown off, then had deviant interspecies sexual relations with, and who you'd joined in performing some questionable bondage type rituals that sounded like they came out of a fornax romance novel.

It was a toss-up at best.

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_Like a bad omen, the dark figure stood between him and blissful solitude. Even from the other end of the promenade, he noted the shadow stood with a familiar stiffness that couldn't be mistaken. He blinked warily, trying to determine the accuracy of his vision. _

_The long hours standing with Wrex beside his former commander's empty coffin had been anaesthetizing. It wasn't a surprise that the old krogan had insisted on drinks afterwards, and it took very little convincing for Garrus to succumb to the invitation, as he had lost the will to argue far earlier. During their outing Garrus had been mute. The stories his former shipmate wove which had once amused and lifted his spirits, now only increased the size of the darkness inside him. Wrex wasn't himself either. Shepard's death seemed to have lit a fire under the old merc's ass. Passion was slowly washing away the indifference that had tainted the flavour of every word Wrex had spoken since their introduction. Garrus was barely aware of the tragedy - that he could only listen half-heartedly as his former teammate came up with a plan to return to Tuchanka, fuelled by alcohol and grand visions that sounded like nothing more than fairytales. He should have had an opinion about Wrex's impulsive desire to take charge of his clan and unite the krogan, but he hadn't the strength to care. It had been easier to keep tossing back the drinks his comrade continued to buy and nod his head. _

_A krogan number of drinks later, mixed with the fact that he hadn't slept properly in days, and it was surprising he was still standing at all._

_Entire cycles must have gone by since the scene at the docks, but he couldn't be sure. It was all combining into an indistinct blur of rage, frustration and at the worst of times, emptiness. All day he had stared back at the many faces that made up the serpent of flesh that had been worshipping at the hollow altar of the galaxy's fallen champion. The endless platitudes spouted by the creature ran in an endless loop in his head like the mantra of a madman. _

_He had finally made it to his small apartment, and he paused. "I wasn't expecting to see you here," Garrus muttered to the figure waiting by his door. The older turian said nothing, simply waited patiently to be let inside. The sparse living quarters were dark, and although he had become used to things that way, his visitor stumbled before impatiently calling up the lights. _

_Leaving the lights off had hidden much of the reality of his current mental state. Now, their terrible glow were like knives in his eyes. His guest was surveying the scene like the seasoned investigator he was, committed to revealing whatever crimes had been committed._

_Drusus had the bearing of a commemorative monument, a statue larger and more solid than the truth it so desperately attempted to sustain. Like some sort of epitaph to a more glorious past, a golden age when the future of the galaxy had no limits and a turian's honour was just as integral as his name. But time had beaten this image, the stress showing in the buffed and cracking plates of his face, an observer to the world passing by as he remained, unchanged. Every time he saw Drusus with his shoulders set and chin high, he wondered if he would ever meet those lofty expectations his father had once held him to as a child. The judgement on his father's face was plain as day, the stoic way his eyes dwelled on the small piles of carnage here and there were being added to some never ending, life long list of criticisms and disappointments in his head. _

"_What in the name of the spirits have you been doing with yourself?" his father demanded in a deceivingly even tone. _

"_Good to see you too Dad," Garrus answered derisively as he began to pry off the blue stripped armour he'd been wearing for days. He gave his father a defeated look as he began stacking it. "What are you doing here?"_

"_Figured I would pick up the armour and save you the hassle of shipping it home," Drusus offered as he wandered over to his son's desk, his eyes taking in the mess of hardcopy notes and datapads._

"_I doubt you came all the way to the Citadel just to babysit some old metal armour on its trip back to Palaven." The accusation was clear as Garrus pulled the heavy collar over his head._

_"I arrived a few days ago," his father admitted. "I sent you some messages but you don't seem to be checking them. C-Sec called me in to consult on some aspects of their investigation into Saren's attack."_

_Letting himself drop down onto his bed, Garrus bent over to remove his boots; his knees and ankles stiff from long hours of standing. "I think you mean Sovereign's attack - and I'm fairly certain that Commander Shepard, a council spectre, wrote a comprehensive report on what happened. All of which I was present for."_

_His father didn't answer and Garrus couldn't help but take his silence as doubt. Turning back to the task of stripping the iconic costume from his body, he felt ridiculous somehow. The judgement of his father and the half-hearted gesture of wearing his family colours to his commander's funeral seemed to add to the futility of it all. She was still gone, and to everyone else she was still just an unfortunate, misguided casualty in a dangerous galaxy. No one seemed to realize the magnitude of what they had lost – the only thing standing between an unimaginable force of death and the very people who doubted her._

_Without warning a third voice filled the cold, hopeless vacuum of his quarters. "Garrus," the disembodied voice began. He shot bolt upright, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed his father holding a datapad. His chest tightened as he listened to the smooth confidence that had always seeped from her words, even in recordings that had travelled through dozens of relays to reach him. "I thought I'd send you a quick message before I call it a day." Like a letter from beyond the grave, he recognized the audio message as one he had received weeks earlier – part of the correspondence he and Shepard had shared since he had left the ship. They had developed a comfortable camaraderie, one wrapped safely in the great distance of time and space that divided them. Each received message had been heard and saved, but since her death he hadn't the courage to deal with them. _

"_I just wanted to know how things were going... and I was wondering if I should send you some scissors so you can cut through all that red tape at C-Sec." There was a soft laugh, light and relaxed, without any fear or knowledge of what lay in wait for her. "I was looking over those notes you sent me. I think you're right about the connection between Ar Tolas and the blue suns merc you spoke to in Numa ward. I imagine you're questioning Tolas this very moment. I expect when I hear from you again you'll already have the case tied up with a neat little bow." His hands had paused on the last piece of armour still strapped to his body, his eyes drifting to his father who was watching him closely, his gaze narrow and critical. _

_'No news on this end. Tali seems to be delaying her return back to the flotilla, though that might have something to do with Joker suggesting hypothetical advances the geth might make, such as assembling themselves into one giant super weapon. I swear she's been obsessing about it ever since. We're still rooting out the machines, but every time we report we've cleaned out a pocket, the Alliance releases a statement describing it as some great achievement. I'm telling you Garrus, there's something else going on out here, it's not geth, but hell if I know what... ' _

_Garrus felt his eyes close, each syllable she spoke existed now without any meaning other than to remind him of her absence. The heaviness on his shoulders increased, his tired body bending forward with the invisible weight of her words._

_'I wonder... with the reapers still out there and the dichotomised nature of the galaxy. How is this going to end?' Shepard's voice ended abruptly and Garrus looked up to see his father had stopped the playback. "Spirits," Drusus muttered as he decisively flicked a finger across the screen to remove the entry._

_"Wait!" Garrus breathed out in surprise, a few long strides taking him to his father's side where he attempted to snatch the datapad away. His father pulled back and they struggled briefly before Drusus released his hold, watching his son run desperate fingers across the pad screen. _

_"You deleted them... all of her messages. Why? Why would you do that?" he growled, tossing the useless datapad onto his unmade bed. "You had no right-"_

"_Solana was right to be worried. This mood you're in is not productive. You need to pull yourself together and get back to work," Drusus advised, leaning forward so that their faces were close. "She's just one human. Pay your respects and move on." Mandibles tight to his jaw, Garrus had a strong urge to lash out at his father, but it was not strong enough to overcome his bone aching exhaustion and gradually he lost the will to argue. He didn't want company, he only wanted silence. Anything more than that was like shards of glass being driven under his fringe. Stepping away from his father, Garrus picked up the final piece of armour and tossed it into the crate it had arrived in. _

_"Get out," he said flatly, pushing the crate into his father's hands before turning away. Stepping up to the window he waited silently until he heard the door open. When it did, there was a long pause before his father spoke._

_"Why wear our colours for this woman, Garrus? She wasn't part of our family."_

_"No, but I was part of hers." _

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Solana's head disappeared into the food preserver.

"I hope this isn't going to take too long," Garrus said from behind her.

She glanced back at him curiously. "You just got here and you don't have five minutes to spend with me?" He couldn't help but look at the floor a little ashamed. "I still can't believe you're back," she continued. "Even after our last, brief conversation, I was honestly beginning to doubt I'd ever see you again." Solana still had her back to him, her voice muffled. "What were you doing all that time?"

Garrus sighed as he pulled a stool up to the large wooden prep area. "I don't know, Sol. I'm not sure if I can really get into it tonight."

He was expecting a lecture, but the resigned look she gave him over her shoulder almost seemed worse. For some reason she wasn't going to push him for an explanation, and he was thankful for it. When she turned back to him, she held a glass bottle and a clear container. "So Shepard... she doesn't have a first name?" Solana asked innocently, opening the cold turian ale and setting it down in front of her brother. Garrus smiled as he looked over the label and took a long drink. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was.

"It's not who she is," he answered, savouring the cool drink between sentences. "Even I don't use it." His sister's mandibles twitched at his vague explanation as she mutely pushed the other container closer to him.

"Leftovers. I can heat them up for you," she offered as he tipped the container on its side to get a better look at the contents.

"Don't worry about it. I'll have it later."

Solana nodded. "It's spicy," she warned. "Dad assures me I can cook just as well as Mom, but sometimes I suspect he's just trying to make me feel better."

"Speaking of Mom, I was hoping to say hi to her tonight, but maybe it would be less of shock if I waited until morning?" Garrus asked absently as he slipped the container into his bag.

Solana had turned away and was digging around in the food preserver. She returned with several sealed containers in her hands, which she let spill out onto the wooden counter. Her attention stayed on them, eyes clearly avoiding his. "Garrus... I don't think you realize how bad Mom really is. As soon as we got word she had qualified for the medical trials on Sur'Kesh, we left - only got back yesterday. If I'd known you were coming..."

Garrus dropped his head. He had arrived too late. "At least she's getting treatment. How's Dad been?"

"The same. Buries himself in his work - still putting in long hours doing cold cases. He still can't bear to see Mom when she has one of her spells." Solana let out a heavy sigh, "but now, with Mom being gone, he almost seems a little lost. I worry about him."

"The salarians are good. They'll help," Garrus assured her, looking up with as much conviction as he could muster. Solana merely stared back at him. "What?" he asked, trying to smile despite her concentrated frown. "Still can't get over how handsome I still am even after taking a rocket to the face?"

She didn't laugh.

"How do you do it?" she finally wondered aloud and it was Garrus' turn to frown. "How can you sit there laughing off the past two years? And Mom's treatment - the salarians wouldn't tell me how Mom had suddenly qualified. No one had the money, not me, not Dad and certainly not you. But somehow you arranged for all of it, didn't you?"

"It's not important," he breathed out, his hands idly lining up the edges of the containers. Wasn't he allowed to just help his family anymore? Now he actually had to explain how he was able to do it?

"Did Shepard pay for it?"

"No," he answered firmly before they both went silent. She assumed it was blood money, and maybe it was. The trade had been for samples of collector flesh after all.

A few more containers joined the others, ruining the row Garrus had neatly lined up. He was still frowning as his sister leaned heavily on the wooden slab that separated them. "I'm just worried about you Garrus." Her voice was low, as though someone might be listening. "I wonder about the company you keep, and the places you might be. You're the only brother I've got... and I mean, look at what's happened to you."

There was pain in her eyes, and not for the first time since they had arrived on Palaven, Garrus felt regret. He had been so removed from his old life that it was easy to convince himself it was moving along without him. It had always seemed easier not to open up old wounds.

"It could have been worse," he finally mumbled.

Solana gave him a disbelieving look before she began rearranging the containers to face her, her large eyes drifting between them and her brother. "It's hard to know what to believe, Garrus. The news vids, Dad's sources on the Citadel, not to mention all the rumours flying around." Solana's hands stilled, her eyes locking with his. "The stories I've heard about Commander Shepard and her alien crew of violent ex-convicts, assassins and... vigilantes." Had he imagined the extra emphasis she put on that last word? "Paid mercenaries hired by a pro human terrorist group to carry out their agenda. Commander Shepard – the living dead, cybernetic human who murdered a fellow spectre and executed an entire batarian colo-."

"Enough!" Garrus' voice rang out at the same instant his fist hit the solid wood counter. The containers rattled but Solana looked unalarmed. There was a tense pause, and he had to take a deep breath before he could continue. "Shepard is not some machine. She's a flesh and blood woman, and she's been through hell - we both have. She's saved _millions_ of lives, including my own. Don't judge her on what you hear from anyone but me."

Garrus pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. Maybe Shepard was right. The more good they tried to do, the more they were made out to be villains. Suspicion had coloured everyone's vision and no matter how hard they tried, their every action was being misconstrued. The council, Kaidan, and now their friends and family... even his sister...

Solana was still watching him patiently. "I'm sorry Sol," he finally said, defeated. "It's just, risking our lives every day trying to help people and always encountering so much resistance and suspicion - it's hard. Shepard sacrifices so much because she believes in what we are fighting for. If you knew her, you'd know she laments every life lost, no matter how unavoidable."

"Just because she believes in her cause, doesn't make it right."

"Sol, if you'd seen what I've seen, you wouldn't have any doubts," Garrus took another sip of his turian beer before letting his eyes close and his head tip back. "It doesn't matter anyways. After her time here, she's turning herself in."

"But she's being charged with war crimes, Garrus - they have been talking about it nonstop in the news. Won't she be jailed for the rest of her life?"

"It is very likely," he sighed.

"I sort of assumed you guys were on the run."

Garrus had to laugh. "If we were on the run, Palaven would be one of the last places we'd go. No, Shepard came here because I asked her to," he said softly, staring up at the heavy wood beam ceiling. "It seems selfish now. But these days might be our last together... for more reasons than the ones you've mentioned..." his words drifted off, "it's a chance to make a few good memories."

He momentarily considered trying to convince her of the impending reaper invasion Shepard had worked so frantically to expose, and which she had been mocked endlessly about. But that was a conversation for later. No need to discredit himself further. When he finally looked back down, her attention was on his hand and Garrus self consciously rubbed the red plate there.

"That's a little medieval of you," she remarked, reaching out and dragging his hand across the counter for a closer inspection. "Where you drunk or what?"

"Far from it. In fact, I don't think my mind has ever been so clear," he said quietly, and his sister released his hand.

"So it's pretty serious then?" she prodded a little further. Garrus smiled to himself.

"I think we're well beyond serious," he admitted, setting down his beer. His sister's brow plates shot up with interest.

"Well beyond serious?" she repeated, clearly trying to judge how far between heavy petting and committed life partners he was suggesting. When he failed to answer her right away, she paused her activities as the answer came to her. "Wait, Garrus, the two of you aren't... life mates...are you?" Solana hissed under her breath. This was it, Garrus thought to himself. He had spent many monotonous hours at his post considering what he would say when faced with the disapproval and objections of his family - but as he confirmed her question with a slow nod, her words were not accusatory in the least. "I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised. Are you going to tell Dad?"

His mouth parted in silent answer. It wasn't the slew of objections and belligerent disgust he had expected. He didn't feel he should _have_ to explain his choice in mate – especially to his dad, but he knew it would be expected. All the clever arguments he had come up with seemed lost to him now.

"I don't know. She's all I have." The answer had come from nowhere, and his sister grimaced in mild confusion. Desperate to change the subject, he tried to focus on the mess Solana was creating in front of him. During their chat, she had opened several containers and was fiddling with bits of food on a plate. For some reason the smell reminded him of the Normandy.

That's when he realized it was all levo food. Piles of it.

"Sol," he began carefully, "what's with all the levo food?" He was hoping his subtle topic change would derail the trajectory of their previous conversation. As he started turning the containers around to face him he realized all the labels were in both Alliance and turian standard. What the hell was peanut butter? "I know you said you would try to fix up something, but this is a stock pile. Who were you expecting? An entire Alliance platoon?" he asked sarcastically, but with an underlying seriousness as the C-Sec detective in him awoke.

Solana waved his questions away, "you know Dad has off world visitors sometimes. And I've... made some contacts on my trips to the Citadel. Stop changing the subject." She was being defensive, but why? Carefully, he watched the strange arrangement of food items that were accumulating on the plate. "If you were going to pick a partner of another species, why not an asari..." Solana rattled on. "It's like you purposely like to get Dad going."

"I think this food needs more of this red stuff," Garrus suggested, pointing to a plastic squeeze bottle. "I see humans put red stuff on everything." Solana's brow plates twitched and she begrudgingly added another dollop of red sauce.

"And if it had to be a human, why not a quiet, little bald one with rich parents? Spirits, you just had to have the most notorious human alive?"

"You forgot this container of...," Garrus paused for a moment to examined the label, "pickled beets," he read out loud as he nudged the container closer to her. Solana let out an exasperated sigh.

"You're not even listening to me," she complained as she dejectedly opened the container and dumped some of the red lumps onto the plate.

"I think those flat things go on the bottom," Garrus continued, still ignoring her.

Solana huffed. "No they don't, look at the picture."

"You have the box upside down."

Solana snatched the box from him and he couldn't help but laugh. He wanted to believe that being away hadn't changed anything, that his old life had gone on without him, just as he had imagined it would had he never escaped that tomb on Omega. In some ways it was rather comforting.

His sister had finally paused to admire her creation, the curved arches of her brow pressing down in contemplation. "Can I ask... what was it like for you... being with a human?"

Her question caught him so off guard that Garrus choked a little on his beer; having to set down the bottle while he coughed. "Surly there are vids on the extranet you can look up instead of asking me?"

She cracked a bit of a smile. "I guess what I mean is, why Shepard? She's not exactly attractive by turian standards."

"Sol, you know I always appreciated your honesty, but you're walking the line."

"You know I don't mean it like that. It's just..." She looked down at her feet for a moment, considering her next words. Garrus doubted if their conversation could become any more uncomfortable, but he chugged what remained of his beer just in case. "She was dead for two years, or gone, or whatever was going on. That means you've only been together a short while, unless... Was she not dead? Was she with you that whole time?"

Garrus' breath caught unexpectedly in his throat. She had been with him in a way, but he couldn't tell her that. She'd have him committed. He simply shook his head no.

"So...?"

Sure, he could talk about life and death, about trust and desperation, about finding hope and beauty in the most unlikely places... but there would be a better time for that."Things between us are... complicated," he finally answered, his words dismissive.

"But she's so..."

"How's Eurix these days?" he asked abruptly.

"Garrus, that ended over a year ago," she admonished him as she started putting the containers away. "He needed more time than I could give him. Between being off world for work and helping with Mom..." She shook her head as her sentence trailed off with the hint of a smile. "I did meet someone when I was on the Citadel," she finally explained, "though that will probably end the same way."

"So who's this new mystery man? C-Sec?"

"No. He's... military - smart, funny... and he's quite endearing." Solana closed the cupboard door with her back as she leaned against it. "We've been corresponding for several months. Last time I was on the Citadel we had a very nice afternoon together, as well as some dinner and drinks."

"I was half expecting you to tell me you were seeing an asari or human, seeing all this levo food here," Garrus joked. His laughter died off as a strange look came over his sister's face. Before he could ask about it, there was a chime from a screen mounted on a nearby wall. Large letters announced an incoming message from Sur'Kesh, and Solana tipped her head apologetically.

"Dad's been waiting for this message," she explained. Her expression turned to horror as she caught her brother unceremoniously pouring the plate of levo food she had slaved over into a container he had dug out of the cupboard. "Garrus!"

"It's ok, take the message. I've got to get going anyway," he explained as he added the container to his bag.

"But you just got here..." Solana protested, watching him grab a few more items in the kitchen.

"I'm taking Shepard into the hills tonight. Don't worry; we'll be back before dawn."

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"Commander Shepard..." the old turian drawled out through his stiff, winkled lips. The resemblance between father and son was striking. The same unnerving, blue hawk eyes as her lover stared back at her - the same angled nose and long straight mandibles, the pale plates and serious expression. He was an attractive turian she supposed, but who was to say what was attractive to her was so to females of their species?

The inspection was mutual. She could sense his eyes taking her in, his questions accumulating like snow behind his cool gaze. Crushing her human instinct to look away, she met his gaze confidently, focusing on the speckled blue pupils of Drusus Vakarian as she effortlessly slid into her Commander persona. Pressing her lips together, Shepard tried to remember all the things Garrus had mentioned about the turian before her. Anything she could use to even the verbal jousting she was expecting.

"...the first human spectre," he finally continued, his eyes holding hers steadily. That's right, Garrus' father didn't like spectres. Swell. "I've heard you described many different ways, though lately most of what I hear comes from popular rumours and headlining news vids."

"I imagine they don't paint a very flattering picture."

"That is certainly an understatement." Drusus' mandibles twitched. "I thought you'd be taller."

There was an awkward moment, and again Shepard wasn't sure if he were joking. The silence continued on a little longer and she began to wonder if she were imagining the accusations in his eyes. Perhaps he was expecting a full play by play confession. Thankfully, Drusus ended the silence for them. "Please," he stated politely as he stood and gestured for Shepard to follow him.

He led her back the way he had come, the walls of the narrow hallway soaring upwards, the high glass ceiling reflecting the muted lights from inside. It would have been easy to imagine she was back on the collector base. Not due to the scenery, but from the uneasy feeling she couldn't shake. Surely around the corner there would be more empty pods and piles of bodies. Soon she would hear Garrus' voice over the comm, updating her on the movements of fire team. What unimaginable horrors awaited beyond, she couldn't be sure.

Through another set of heavy doors, he led her into what looked to be a large study. There was a desk, of unfamiliar design – sort of angular, but with heavy sides and deep lines cut into the wood. There was a large, framed, paper map on the wall, and Shepard paused to look at it. Most of it was in turian, but she was able to glean enough details to know it was Palaven. She squinted at the year, but it was in a format she could not understand. She was tempted to pull out her omni tool, but somehow it seemed inappropriate.

"That's Palaven. Two hundred years before we achieved space flight," Drusus explained, his back turned to her. There was a clink of glass, and Shepard wondered what sort of dextro poison he might be concocting for her. "Right on the brink of self destruction. Beside it is a star chart of turian settlements just five years before the colonial wars."

Shepard nodded, her eyes drifting over the other interesting objects in the room - bits of armour, an object that looked like a jagged sword, a ratty triangular flag with an ornate symbol on it, maybe a coat of arms, and in the corner an aged wooden cabinet. The interior of the cabinet was protected by crisscross soldered glass doors, through them she caught a glimpse of a familiar blue which drew her closer. "You have quite the collection," she answered distractedly as she tried not to snoop too obviously. Through the glass was a set of dark metal armour decorated with geometric blue line and accented with bits of gold.

"Our family armour," he explained as he set a bottle down on his desk before offering her the drink he had made, his movements a little wary. "A tradition resurrected after the rebellions – it's mostly ceremonial now, and like most of our ways, has slowly been falling into disuse.

"Garrus wore this at my funeral," Shepard observed out loud as Drusus headed back to his desk.

"Actually, that's my set – haven't worn it in probably a decade. Garrus' is upstairs."

Shepard nodded as she looked down at her drink. Two rough chunks of ice floated in the embrace of dark amber liquid. The smell of alcohol was potent. "Someone I once worked with in C-Sec, a salarian, gave me this. " He nodded at the large cut crystal bottle on his desk. "Seventy five year aged rye whiskey, from Earth," Drusus explained as he offered her the chair across from him. "Said it was a good excuse for him to come and visit."

"Your friend has good taste," Shepard said diplomatically, taking a subtle sniff of the liquid as she sat. In reality she didn't know all that much about whiskey. Seventy five years was a long time, so it must be good... right?

"I suppose it's closer to eighty five year aged now. Poor bastard died before he had the chance to enjoy it," Drusus retorted bitterly as he sat down at his desk, a half finished drink of his own waiting for him. "The extranet tells me it would be a shame to let it go to waste." He took a long sip of his own drink as he regarded the human before him, the cataloguing eye of the old investigator taking in whatever secrets her body was revealing. "I'm going to be completely honest with you Commander. I hope you can show me the same respect."

"Of course," Shepard assured him, keeping her face neutral. "But first..." she raised her glass, causing the old turian to pause as if trying to recall which human tradition this was exactly before mimicking her actions. "To family," Shepard offered.

"To family," Drusus repeated carefully and they leaned forward, Shepard taking the initiative to clink her glass against his. His mandibles quivered with what might have been slight amusement before they drank. The whiskey was stronger than Shepard had expected, but she held her gag in check. Drusus set down his own glass, ran a bare hand over his fringe and sighed.

"I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you here," he began. "From what I've gathered you and your crew are wanted fugitives on four fronts. Both the Alliance and Citadel Council have sent agents after you, as well as the Batarians, who I hear have an entire squadron breaking dozens of galactic laws and treaties in the hopes of getting the chance to spill your blood. Not to mention the mercenary groups, eager to get their hands on your bounty. The fact that you are sitting in front of me at this very moment, here on Palaven, does not just make me uneasy about security on my homeworld - it also suggests that I have underestimated your resourcefulness."

"It is not my intention to put your family at risk," Shepard assured him. "So if you'd prefer that I leave, I will. But I want you to know that if the authorities were to arrive, I do not plan to resist."

"So these allegations against you... they are true?"

Shepard took a deep breath. "Despite what most of the galactic community believes, we are already at war."

"You think the reapers really exist?"

"I sacrificed the lives of over three hundred thousand batarians with that belief. If I am correct, the implications are too horrific to imagine - millions more will die. For everyone's sake I hope I am wrong. I would gladly sit in a cell or face my own death if it somehow meant preventing the Armageddon that approaches." She was trying to put on a brave face, but it was exhausting. If Drusus wanted honesty, so be it. "If these are to be my last days, free or alive, then I wish to spend them with your son."

Her words seem to move something in the old turian's glassy eyes, his mandibles twitching as he looked past her, towards a window framing the darkness outside. He was still for a moment before setting down his drink and leaning forward with a very sombre look Shepard could only describe as being that of a man who was about to discuss a topic he had spent far too long thinking about. So long in fact, that she was preparing herself for a long tirade of circular logic. "When Garrus was young, I foolishly thought I could instill in him all the hard lessons I had learn over the years. I would save him from making all the same mistakes I did. When he first told me he had been working with a human spectre, I did not approve. Then, when you died, he seemed to stumble and I could not understand why. I tried to set him back on a steady path, but my coaxing only pushed him farther away. I was so disappointed in him, or so I thought."

Shepard stayed quiet, not certain if he expected her to respond. In her head was a great tidal wave of protests as to why he should be proud of his son, but instead she took a long sip of her drink and let him continue his confession.

"Of course that was all before my son became an apparition - a footnote in a cold case I could not crack. Eventually, the disappointment I felt was in myself. I've had two years to reflect on Garrus' life as well as my own, telling myself I did everything I could, all the while unsure if I would ever see him alive again. I imagined many fates for him, but seeing him scarred and battle worn, here with you, his hand marked, I have to conclude none of them were anywhere close to reality."

Shepard couldn't help but place a self conscious hand over where the pendant lay beneath her shirt. "Red, the colour of human blood," Drusus continued, sitting back and taking a sip of his drink. "Self mutilation is a rather antiquated practice in turian culture that tends to resurrect itself during desperate times - in the midst of the colonial wars and the rebellions, it was quite common."

"Those desperate times might be upon us again sooner than you think," Shepard replied darkly, but Drusus simply nodded, as if only acknowledging her words and not their meaning. His hands had begun searching through the items on his desk until his talons curled around a datapad. It awoke at his touch and he squinted down at the words. "_The Investigation: Saren, Sovereign and the Battle of the Citadel_," Drusus read aloud, before his finger moved and he spoke again, "_Last Stand of the Normandy, a Survivors Account_. _Blood of Every Colour: Commander Shepard's Team and the Fall of Saren Arterius_". Setting down the datapad he let out a long breath. "You see Commander, I have been conducting my own investigation. Truth or fiction; sometimes it's hard to know the difference," Drusus picked up his drink, his eyes falling on the woman before him. "After years of coming up with my own truths, the only thing I know for certain is that my son is not a fool. So I will not sit here and insult you by questioning your character or your actions. I only want to know one thing."

"What's that?" Shepard answered.

"Would you do it all again?"

She paused, the weight of his question slowly settling like grains of sands, infinitely accumulating in a smothering blanket in her mind. Would she do it all again? All of it? Which parts and how far back? Killing Visir? Destroying the collector base? Bahak? Working with Cerberus? Rewriting the geth and saving Maelon's data? Walking away from Kaidan after his words on Horizon? Or maybe letting Garrus see the woman inside that no one saw - the desperate moments, the confusion, anger and lust. Or maybe even earlier. Unleashing the rachni on the galaxy for a second time. Shutting down EDI during her first moments of self awareness. Destroying the cure for the genophage and leaving Ashley to die - convincing herself that the soldier had been on borrowed time ever since Eden Prime. Or earlier than that even... joining the Alliance and taking every dangerous mission that came her way...

Or perhaps that one moment that defined them all. The moment in the corn... watching silently as bloody handed batarian slavers cut down her family. When they depending on her the most, she hadn't fought bravely, _she ran -_ ran until the screams and gunfire dissolved into that blaring, heavy silence she could never forget. That would be the last time she would ever feel powerless again.

Drusus was still waiting, watching her patiently as she considered his question. "Yes, I would," she finally answered.

Perhaps he had seen something in her eyes that told him how little he really knew about her, or maybe he assumed by reputation alone that she'd had to make many more difficult decisions than the ones he'd read about or heard on the evening news. Whatever it was, Drusus nodded with a look of satisfied understanding before finishing his drink and setting the glass down with a triumphant thump.

"Thank you Commander, for being so candid with me." Drusus' voice was thoughtful, his hands idly fidgeting with the empty glass. "I am almost certain I have you to thank for the chance to see my son again. He trusts you and he seems happy - and that is enough." Garrus' father sighed, as if keeping many things to himself. "I want you to know that even if I don't agree with you or your actions, you have my respect, and that there are no conditions to my appreciation."

There was a sudden, soft knock at the door, and Solana peeked her head in. "Sorry to interrupt. Dad there is a transmission coming in from Sur'Kesh." Drusus looked down at his terminal, puzzled, neither of them having noticed or heard the message come through.

"I'll leave you to your call," Shepard offered as she stood. Drusus stood as well, straightening his shirt and nodding.

"The four of us can talk tomorrow. I'm looking forward to hearing some interesting stories."

"That shouldn't be a problem... and Sir?" Shepard paused, her hands resting on the back of the chair she had just vacated. "You should be very proud of your son."

He gave her a long look. "I am."

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It was still going to be another five, uncomfortable hours until they reached Palaven.

They sat across from each other, the comm. room in the turian vessel singing with the same gentle hum that permeated the entire ship. Other than that, silence had ruled for the past ten or twenty minutes, maybe longer. A static tension still filled the air, overseen by the empty, imposing vid comm. screen.

Kaidan's eyes watched the pointed tips of Osaro's left hand tap again and again against the surface of the table that thankfully separated them. Some primal part of his mind made it impossible to look away, expecting the predator to lash out at any moment. It was like sitting next to a live tiger. Despite this, the spectre had been strangely quiet. Perhaps he was wondering why using the words 'spectre lead military operation on Palaven' with the head of Palaven Planetary Security had gone over as well as a volus on a mechanized bull.

Just minutes earlier Kaidan had found himself loitering just out of view as Osaro spoke to the turian projected on the large vid screen in the comm. room. The head of the PPS was older than the spectre, the plates around his eyes were deeply etched and his forehead worn smooth. The white markings on his face were familiarly ostentatious and he spoke with a pompous professionalism that oozed self importance to an almost nauseating level. Despite Osaro having been a spectre for so long, it seemed as though the two did not know each other well, or perhaps they did and it was mutual distaste he was witnessing.

Their conversation had begun innocently enough; the spectre was making a routine request to land without passing through any checkpoints. Contacting the PPS was nothing more than a courtesy. Being patched directly to the head of the organization hadn't seemed out of place until it was revealed the PPS knew Osaro had requested information about the incident at the Urtros customs office, and had come to the conclusion they must be searching for the same woman.

Osaro quite calmly explained that his suspect posed a significant flight risk, and that she was very dangerous. The head of Planetary Security thought that was all the more reason to work together and commence an immediate manhunt since they had been unable to locate this person of interest for further questioning. Trying again, the spectre elaborated that any attempt to question her might end in unnecessary bloodshed. Unfortunately the more serious the matter sounded, the more unwilling the head of Planetary Security was to cooperate.

Negotiations had deteriorated from there. Osaro wasn't about to let anyone question his authority as a spectre, but the PPS had a five hour head start. At the very end, both turians were wide eyed and yelling at each other, some of their words getting lost in Kaidan's translator before the transmission was abruptly ended.

Now, they sat in silence, the spectre's eyes narrow as whatever brand of formulaic madness he had ran through his mind. Kaidan sighed, moving the holo image they had been staring at onto the large vid-comm display. The spectre slowly turned his chair so he could stare at the image, still labouring over their next move. Finally he spoke.

"How long do you think it will take?"

Kaidan sighed. On the screen was Shepard's warrant, side by side with the identity she had used to get through the customs port. To him, they were clearly both the same person, but Osaro admitted he couldn't make out the similarities because the hair and face were different. Make up, Kaidan had explained. The turian officer at customs probably hadn't stopped her because her DNA profile matched that included with her ID.

"If they release her alias image, it still won't be long. The makeup might throw off some, but most humans will recognize her as Shepard," Kaidan explained.

"Once news of her location spreads, keeping Shepard alive will be difficult, both on Palaven, in transit, and on the Citadel. The last thing we need are the Batarians accusing the hierarchy of hiding a mass murderer."

Five hours until they reached the turian homeworld. It was plenty of time for someone to see through Shepard's disguise. Once they did, the news would escalate beyond Palaven, and it would only be a matter of time before the entire galaxy knew where Shepard was, inviting all manner of nightmares. Even on the Citadel, attempts on their prisoner's life were going to be a massive security issue. The entire thing had to be kept under wraps until Shepard was back on Earth.

That was if she was even taken alive.

"If Palaven Security forces find her first, there is a high probability of causalities." The spectre's fingers had stilled. Kaidan pressed his lips together in silent agreement.

"So we're going in without approval?" Kaidan clarified and the spectre sighed.

"We don't need approval. Usually asking permission helps in preventing confusion like being shot out of the sky or gunned down while landing a shuttle. Unfortunately in this case it's landed us in... what do you humans say? In a shit lake without a boat?"

"I think you mean up shit creek without a paddle," Kaidan clarified, and the turian hummed with unconvincing interest as his eyes drifted back to the massive vid comm screen.

"What I still don't understand is the human working at the customs security checkpoint. Why didn't she recognize Shepard?"

"Maybe she did," Kaidan brought up the ID of the woman in question. "Shepard has as many friends as she has enemies."

"Shepard and Vakarian both had excellently forged IDs. No doubt, T'Soni was involved. Maybe this woman owed the asari a favour."

It was driving the spectre crazy knowing how easily Shepard had slipped through Palaven's security net. Kaidan could see it in the way the turian's mandibles fused to his face each time they discussed the logistics of it. The sadist in him couldn't help but bring the footage up again. They'd watched the vids for so long Kaidan could see the images on the backs of his eyelids whenever he blinked.

Despite the high civilian traffic, there was no actual public footage of what Palaven's news was still down playing as a random terrorist attack. The omni tool vid was a mess of chaotic, rushing civilians, excited security staff and in the centre of it all a mauled faced turian and a green eyed woman making a hasty exit. It was still incredible to see that Shepard and Garrus had made it all the way to Palaven without incident.

The other available footage, not shared with the public, had been captured by security cameras. Unfortunately the angle was terrible and even with a slew of enhancing filters, it still left them squinting.

"Case file was just updated. The terrorist has been identified as a Tehros colonial separatist. Still no mention of the biotics," Osaro muttered almost to himself as he leaned over his omni tool. It was something the news wasn't reporting, but what was highlighted in the account in his hand - the confusion about the sequence of events that followed the attack. Several civilians and security officers claimed to have seen a biotic field remove the weapon from the attacker's hand.

Kaidan replayed the video and the two of them watched again as the hooded woman threw herself at the gunman as he prepared to fire. In the next moment a flash of blue sent the gun into the air at an awkward angle as the turian was knocked down. Osaro sighed in frustration.

"Vakarian isn't a biotic, and according to her file, neither is Shepard."

"She wasn't, at least not when I knew her," Kaidan assured him.

It was well known the turians were notoriously strict with biotics, requiring them to be registered, and for all biotic amps to be turned in by non military personnel unless they had permission from the hierarchy. Even he, as a spectre candidate, had gone through endless red tape. Whether or not the turians' suspicion regarding biotics was justified, wasn't for him to say. What he did know was that Shepard hadn't ever been a biotic. Then again, Cerberus had every opportunity to make her into one. Hell, they could have rebuilt her with all sorts of extra bits and pieces.

Osaro had paused the video at the very moment the flash of blue appeared. "I don't understand why she would do this." The spectre gestured broadly at the screen, his voice rising. "Why go to Palaven? Why not escape to the terminus, or get lost in the dozens of free worlds in the traverse... or even escape to the flotilla." He shook his head, frustrated and almost angry. His reaction seemed out of place, and to Kaidan it almost seemed like he was disappointed. "It's ridiculous. She could have disappeared at any time. Saving those kids was reckless."

"Shepard would never have sacrificed children for her own happiness. Besides, I already told you she doesn't intend to run."

Osaro paused, clasping his hands together and pressing them against his chin. "Perhaps she knows she'll never find peace. Do humans have a saying for that?"

"There is no rest for the wicked," Kaidan offered and the turian nodded, considering the words. "Starting to pity the fox?" He asked and Osaro huffed out a laugh in response, recalling their previous conversation.

"I wouldn't insult the Commander with such a description. Besides, there is no room for pity in our line of work." Something about the look in his eyes suggested he didn't quite believe his own words. Kaidan had more questions, but their frank exchange came to an abrupt end as he stood.

"Do you still want to send the PPS those false leads, get them searching somewhere else?" Kaidan inquired as the turian collected a datapad and turned to leave.

"No, it won't make any difference. Let them search. We will just have to take our chances." Osaro paused at the door. "I almost forgot. A message for you came in on the ships secure channels." Kaidan's omni tool beeped as the spectre relayed the message. "Hopefully it isn't bad news. We'll meet back here two hours before we reach cruising orbit."

Glancing over his shoulder, he waited until the doors slid closed behind the spectre before turning his attention to his omni tool. His stomach turned as he watched the message light blinking insistently, urging him to action. He wanted it to be Solana, but he knew secure channels direct to Osaro meant it was Alliance. Taking a deep breath he opened the message.

'_Commander Alenko,_

_The following message has been given priority one security clearance as per section 3255 of the galactic communications agreement after being reviewed by Alliance Galactic Intelligence and Security. Delivery in its entirety has been approved and recorded on your file. Failing to notify AGIS of any further communications between you and the sender could result in serious disciplinary action as severe as charges of treason. _

_-Admiral James Keer'_

Kaidan's mouth quivered. Had the Alliance discovered his communications with Solana? Their early conversations had been all business, but he had switched to a private channel when he began to blur the lines between classified and non-classified material. He nervously eyed the highlighted line of letters and numbers that served as a case number, and which would link him to the message.

The attached message was time stamped several days earlier. What he found when he opened it was not at all what he was expecting.

_'Kaidan -_

_I find myself writing you this message with less time than I would have liked. I should apologize for not sending you this sooner...'_

A soft breath escaped him as he suddenly realized who the message was from.

_'We are about to attempt a jump through the Omega 4 relay...'_

His eyes were burning by the time they reached the final line. "_There is no reason why you shouldn't be happy,_" he read aloud under his breath, his former commander's words creating an awful stab of guilt that tore through him before he closed the message and placed his head in his hands.

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	23. Chapter 23

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CHAPTER 23

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_A galaxy of amber sunlight twinkled through the shivering leaves, on branches that danced high above him to the afternoon's easy melody. The hours of the day had warmed the soft earth beneath his back, and he sighed with utter contentment. Squinting upward, he stared mesmerized, his hypnosis only broken by the passing of an indistinguishable shadow - a blink amid the undulating canopy of towering trees. _

_It was like so many warm, dreamy days from his childhood on Palaven, though on this world the vegetation was too green and the sky too orange - as though the sun were perpetually setting. As a gentle breeze sent long blades of grass shivering across his skin, a soft, familiar laugh nearby made him pause. In a moment, the silhouette entered his vision again and he blinked away the glare of the sun before smiling. Shepard was an unmistakable mirage, her blonde locks falling around her face as she looked down at him curiously. Reaching out, he let his hand trail down her hair... though it seemed unusually long. It wasn't the only anomaly either. She seemed to be dressed strangely, and not only that, her eyes were brighter, skin pinker, her arms thin as though they had never lifted a weapon or carried a heavy set of armour._

"_What are you doing here?__"__ she asked, her question eroding into an easy laugh, her voice higher and younger than he could ever recall hearing it. It was dawning on Garrus that the details regarding where he was and why, were disturbingly foggy. The tranquillity of their surroundings was quickly evaporating, uncertainty rushing in like the tide. Even paradise must have a name... _

_His question was cut off at his lips as the sudden long, severe sound of a siren far off in the distance turned their heads. It was swiftly followed by the roar of several ships, which tore overhead in the direction of the alarm. There was a moment when their eyes met, sunlight framing her look of panic in a veil of gold. _

"_This is the part where we run,__"__ she whispered, and with that she leapt up and took off in the direction the ships had gone. He was after her before he even realized he was standing, but for some reason running had become a difficult ballet of legs and terrain. Every rock and dip in the ground made him stumble. Around him, the landscape of grass and trees seemed almost unending, until finally it gave way to acres of crops and primitive, automated agricultural stations. The tech was outdated but still had the look of being factory fresh. Words along the sides were stamped out in Alliance standard... wait... He blinked before stumbling again. No, now the characters were clearly in Hierarchal turian... _

_Perhaps he was hallucinating, but it didn't matter - Shepard, was nowhere to be found. How had he not caught up with her yet? Urgency had its grip on him, and something else... an unsettling dread, as though some part of him already knew what was to come. Breathing heavy, he continued to push his way through the tall, unfamiliar cultivated plants. In the maze of towering stalks and quivering leaves, she had all but vanished. _

_"Shepard!" he called out, but there was no response. Stumbling closer to the outer edge of the field, the tops of the colony's dormitory compounds began rising over the horizon of tall plants. Carelessly he crashed out of crops, staggering into a debris strewn courtyard just as a blinding flash of light sent him reeling. It was quickly followed by the familiar scorching heat from an explosion pressing against his face, the force tossing him backwards like a rag doll. Screams and yelling sliced the air, which was unexpectedly thick with putrid smoke and grit that floated down like terrible snow all around him. Coughing, his ears ringing, he began crawling away from the burning homes, only to realize he was crawling over human bodies. _

_This wasn't the first time he had seen such mangled remains, but it felt like it was. As the smell of seared flesh crept into his nostrils, a sickening, long forgotten fear seized him. It wasn't until he heard the sound of heavy boots approaching through the smoke that he was able to collect himself enough to dive behind a large piece of metal, shorn off the side of a blown out compound. He crouched perfectly still, holding his breath as they passed. Somewhere beyond the haze, the rapid crackle of weapons fire rang out, followed by angry yells and terrified screams. Though his heart was leaping out of his chest, with shaking hands he peeked out of his hiding spot. _

_The landing zone of the first ship was now in his line of sight, its heavy bottom door open and pressing into the soft ground. It was an old human freighter, but standing guard at its base were several armed batarians. In the trampled grass all around it were strewn the crumpled bodies of... fallen turians? Garrus blinked again. Moments earlier he was sure they had been humans. Staring into the eyes of the bloodied faces, he recognized friends from his childhood, coworkers from his time at C-Sec, even Omega. How they had all come to be there was unimaginable, yet it did not change the fact that they were there... and they were all dead. The closest fallen turian, an academy friend whose eyes were staring blankly up at the bright sky, still had an old Haliat rifle clipped to his back __–__ the type of weapon Garrus had only seen in the hands of old mercenaries, busy collecting dust and drinking their lives away in lonely, off world bars. _

_As if driven by unseen forces, Garrus scrambled out from behind the crates and wrenched the weapon off the corpse before sliding back out of sight. His numb fingers slid over the smooth metal, paralysing fear still poisoning his concentration. Why were his legs shaking, and why did his hands feel wet? Beyond, more terrified screams mingled with rapid gunfire, and the unmistakable heavy, guttural sounds of batarian voices. Giving another frantic but fruitless look around for Shepard, he turned his desperation to the gun in his hands. _

_It felt beyond heavy, and what should have been an easy task for someone with his knowledge of firearms, expanding the weapon seemed impossible. It wasn't jammed or damaged, he just could not recall how to unlock it. _

_The chaos around the ship had reached a crescendo, and Garrus turned to look, still fumbling with the rifle. The screams were familiar now, and he peeked around the corner just in time to see his family being forced onto the ship, guns pressed to their backs. Helplessness took hold as he frantically tried in vain to use the weapon he held, but it was too late. In an instant, his mother lunged at one of the guards, setting off a series of shots that echoed off the surrounding buildings as his father, sister, and half a dozen others fell in the spray of bullets. _

_He was already running in the opposite direction before his mother hit the ground. The leaves of the alien plants slashed his face as he pushed through the sharp, curled leaves. Finally, legs aching, face wet, his voice caught in his throat with a sob as he dropped to his knees in the dirt. In the calm mid day sun, he ran a hand down his face and looked down to see it covered with blood. _

_Red blood._

_A voice in his head whispered... _

_Coward... _

At the time, the dream had jolted him awake, though it hadn't taken him long to realize he was safe in the cockpit of his tiny ship. Shepard, in her civilian clothes, older and calmer, had been sitting beside him. She was awake; her alien eyes, heavier and deeper than the ones he had seen moments before, were cast towards the unforgiving vacuum outside. There was only thoughtfulness in her expression, and she had seemed thankfully unaware of his own distress.

In the two years he had spent sleepwalking, there had been no time for unconscious adventures. Long hours conversing with the dead had made the more questionable parts of his own psyche begin to resemble characters in his waking nightmare. Actual sleep had become an intricate puzzle for him, and on the rare occasion it came, it was always without notice and thoroughly paralysing, debilitating even. There had never been dreams like this. On board the Normandy, Shepard had become his sanctuary. With each night her warm body was pressed to his, the heavy arms of sleep were gradually coming to him more easily.

Unfortunately, there was a beast guarding the sanctuary, and he had not thought to check it for fangs. The dreams, like angry demons, were clawing their way out of the abyss of his mind, tangled with strange memories of places and people he had never known.

Garrus leaned heavily against the wooden counter, the empty kitchen emitting a strange hollowness he had never experienced in his childhood home before. It felt cold, just as the new Normandy had during those early days being back onboard – long hours trying to come to terms with the strange creature who wandered about the ship wearing his ex-commander's face. For two years he had quietly confided in her shadow; divulged his fears and desires to a patient emptiness. How was it that when he had finally looked into her living eyes again, he expected there to be even a whisper of those nights reflected back at him?

It had been a rude awakening, and he had tried his best to reset everything back to zero, and for a while it seemed to work. But from then on the silence had turned a deaf ear, and the cold rooms of the Normandy were impartial to his late night brooding. Had he truly been talking to himself all those long nights?

_I can't predict how this will affect you._

Liara's warnings had felt meaningless back then. Madness borne out of desperation and the underlying knowledge that chaos and destruction awaited every sentient being in the galaxy had made his selfish desires appealing. Now, hours later, the innocent laughter of the young woman from his dream was still resonating in his head and he wondered if every peaceful night would throw wide a door he had no right to open. At least he would be spared having to ever live the horror of her death.

How could he look Shepard in the eye and repeat all those explanations and late night confessions? As their hours together were counting down, it seemed that every word that came out of his mouth sounded more and more like a lie.

Anchored against the kitchen counter and unaware of her presence, he was frowning at some unseen point across the room. There wouldn't be many more moments like this - moments where she could watch him, letting herself memorize the sight of him completely unguarded and without having to face the urgency in his eyes. There was a gracefulness to his movements, a confidence and a questioning battling for control. Shepard felt no guilt allowing her eyes to indulge. It was so strange seeing him without his visor - it made him seem naked, even vulnerable. The clothing he had changed into was unfamiliar and seemed to fit him poorly. Loose around his midriff and tight across his chest. His time with her had changed him, his old clothes now more like the skin of a stranger - a turian who hadn't walked such a perilous, physically demanding road. Though painted in shadow, the scarred side of his face whispered its existence, the rough lines still echoing the pain and desperation they had been forged in.

Knowing her had not been kind to anyone it seemed.

Garrus' demeanour suddenly changed - his head tilted and nose wrinkled just as his keen eyes locked with hers.

"Oh good you're still alive," he remarked with typical amusement, his voice laced with all the confidence and pomp he generally projected, though in his eyes she caught a brief look of whatever had been consuming him moments before. "I was starting to wonder."

Shepard wanted to ask about his mom, but from the bits of conversation she had heard, she wondered if maybe it was a topic for later. Instead she tried to keep things light. "I was dying to brush my teeth. Couldn't find a shower, though I did go looking for one after you left me with your father..."

"Ah ha, yeah," he laughed uneasily. "It was leave you with a grumpy old turian or try to prevent your death via possible dextro poisoning. And well... I figured you've talked your way out of worse." Shouldering his bag from the floor, he motioned for her to follow him outside.

"I have. And although your father has a stare that could cut through steel, he seemed fair and willing to listen. We might have an ally in him in the end," she answered, pulling her own bag onto her back as they stepped out into the warm night air. "It helped that he offered me a hefty shot of alcohol that was bottled well before humanity made first contact - on an empty stomach it was probably strong enough to damage my short term memory and erase my fears about what your sister was making for me to eat... which is what by the way?"

"The booze was purely tactical," Garrus chuckled. "A turian that age doesn't take a breath without over analyzing the consequences. As for your meal, I'm not sure there is a name that will adequately describe it in your language... I could probably think of a few in mine though..."

Carefully she was following him through the zigzag grid of paths, vegetation and old walls, which he navigated with ease. As they moved farther away from the soft glow of the house, the forest around them was slowly growing steadily darker; the densely wooded hills singing with strange sounds as a gentle breeze gave the trees soft, whispering voices.

Descending a set of worn stone steps brought them to the edge of the gardens. "Wait here," he instructed as he hopped over a low wall and approached the tall line of trees. There was nothing to do but squint as Shepard's human eyes desperately tried to adjust to the dark landscape. Just as the grey shapes around them began to come into focus, the sudden sound of jingling chains and rustling leaves behind her stole her attention. Habit caused her to brush a hand against her side where her missing weapon would have been. She turned slowly as she stared hard into the shadowy abyss of the woods, but could see nothing.

Could someone have tracked them there? Would a gang of bounty hungry bandits emerge from the darkness? Or maybe it would be that turian spectre and Kaidan. Years of training quickly reined in the primitive parts of her brain which, even after all these years, were leaping to all sorts of unlikely possibilities. A quick glance at her partner told her he was unconcerned. Had she imagined it?

The sound repeated and as her eyes scanned the gardens she caught the slight glint of metal in the overwhelming darkness. A chain, like the one she had noticed earlier, attached to a large stone spire - except this chain was swinging gently.

"Garrus..." she said quietly. He didn't turn, so she said his name again. "Garrus, what's on the end of that chain?"

"Hmmm?" he glanced over, distracted. "Oh it's attached to that tree."

"The tree... is chained to a stone pillar?"

"Well yeah... otherwise it would just wander off."

It was only a beat before the answer emerged from the fog of long forgotten xeno-botany lectures. "Mobile vegetation," Shepard muttered to herself, feeling like she had just failed an academy midterm. Looking up at the wall of dark trees, they seemed to stand shoulder to shoulder across the surrounding hills like a quiet army at attention, waiting for orders. "Palaven's flora and fauna were low priority for Alliance curriculum. Though they did make us read a turian ballad while at the academy called 'The Chained Forest'... I always thought it was just a metaphor - not literally moving trees."

"Humans and their metaphors," he chuckled. "The trees... they don't move that quickly, so if you're worried about some sort of vegetation stampede, you can relax." Smiling, she reached out to brush her fingers against the dark foliage, watching with fascination as the leaves twitched and swayed. Behind her, Garrus had turned on his omni tool to light up their immediate surroundings, motioning for her to join him where he was sitting on a long, stone slab. From his bag he produced two containers, and after a peek in one, he handed her the other. Probably the food Solana had prepared.

Peering into the container, she absently took the odd looking utensil he offered as she attempted to dissect her meal with her eyes. Her companion was starting his own meal, while simultaneously doing a poor job of trying to gauge her reaction. Her dextro tolerance was good... wasn't it? Fuck it, she thought as she scooped the first bite into her mouth.

It was too late by the time the smell alerted her to its possible unpleasant taste. "Oh god..." she coughed. The odour was strong, but surprisingly somewhat familiar. Pickled beets maybe, and what looked like caviar, horseradish and peanut butter? It was hard to say. Though she had been prepared for the odd combination of flavours and her hunger would have been enough to overcome most concoctions, she had not been expecting the heat. And it was hot.

Garrus fumbled his container of food off his lap. "What's wrong?" he asked, his expression coloured with concern as he watched Shepard digging around inside his bag, stopping only once she had found a canister of what she hoped was water.

It was wine.

"Spicy..." she explained between gulps, feeling blood rush to her head. Garrus frowned. "Spirits Shepard, I have water..." he said, watching her wipe her mouth on her sleeve. "Are you having some sort of reaction?" He sounded almost panicky now.

"Don't turians have hot sauce?"

He frowned and then unceremoniously stuck his finger in her food. "Feels cold," he stated flatly before reaching back into the bag and pulling out a package of levo rations.

Shepard had to smile, despite the burning in her mouth, she didn't have the heart to eat rations in front of him. "No, no, it's alright... I'm getting to experience lots of new flavour combinations... Pickled beets, peanut butter, horseradish, hot sauce, caviar, on what I think may have been date squares. It will go nicely with chocolate covered garlic mashed potatoes at the next holiday dinner," she jabbed him in the side good naturedly and he just shook his head in defeat.

"I'll have to buy a cook book," he laughed sadly. "This isn't exactly the romantic picnic I had imagined."

"It's the most romantic middle of the night picnic I've ever had," she laughed, reaching down to set the bottle of wine back in the bag. As she did, her hand brushed up against something that made her pause. Her fingers curled around the square object and pulled it out to reveal a book, covered with a cloth. Garrus hesitated for a moment then nodded for her to open it. Inside was a book she hadn't seen for years.

"Garrus..." she whispered, cracking the cover as her eyes ran over the inscription on the inside. "These are the only written words I have left from either of my parents," she whispered. The old volume of Don Quixote looked just as it had the last time she had seen it, more than two years earlier. "I've had this book since I was eight... it even came to the academy with me. I read it again and again."

"I found it at your apartment on Intai'Sei.. I would have given it back to you sooner, but I didn't have much time to clear out my ship before I was on my way to the Normandy med bay."

"Thank you for keeping it for me," she smiled, closing the book, her hand running over the cover. "Too much sanity may be madness. And maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be," she quoted.

"Isn't that the truth," he murmured solemnly, taking another bite of food. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the book she had brought with her. It was just one of the several nameless book Cerberus had stuck on the shelf in her cabin. The only difference was that inside this particular one was a white lily, stashed there hastily moments before the start of their Omega-4 jump. The pages fell open to where the flower lay, its petals already drying between the blankets of text. Sliding it out carefully, she placed it into its new home in the centre of the volume she had just been given. Without a thought, the second book was tossed into the trees. Garrus was staring at her curiously.

"It's biodegradable," she explained with an embarrassed smile as her copy of Don Quixote went into the safety of her bag.

Garrus looked as though he might ask what he had just witnessed, but instead gave her a shake of his head. "I still can't believe _The Chained Forest_ was required reading in the Alliance Academy," he eventually muttered. "Is that the only turian literature you've read?"

"I've read other stuff," Shepard shot back unconvincingly. It wasn't exactly a lie... and once she was back on Earth there would be lots of time to catch up on alien literature. "I read about Tyris - that planet you turians filled with extinct animals - some of which aren't even native to Palaven."

"You turians?" he laughed. "Come on, everyone knows Tyris was an accident."

"_An accident?" _Shepard scoffed in disbelief.

"And now, Tyris is an exciting place to vacation... as long as you don't get yourself killed. And it's a fairly popular setting for human survivalist novels, isn't it?" he asked, words muffled by food. "I might be generalizing, but survival seems to be a fairly common theme for humans to write about."

"Read a lot of human literature?"

"Only recently," he smiled. "Do you ever wonder what geth write about?"

"I always imagined geth just wrote versions of themselves."

He paused and smiled. "Would you classify that as pornography or reproduction?"

Shepard laughed, "both maybe? I don't know."

They chuckled as they picked at the last bits of their meals. "Your father... He wasn't as dismissive as I had expected..." her voice trailed off. Garrus was chewing the last bite of his meal, his gaze cast down at the empty container. "He's very proud of you, you know," Shepard added. "And he believes in you." Her companion stilled at her words for a beat before he looked over at her. He was watching her carefully - his mandibles twitching, his eyes shiny black in the darkness.

"Maybe eventually I'll hear it for myself," he answered doubtfully, already packing up their empty containers, switching off the light from his omni tool and heading once again to the edge of the woods. Shepard wasn't going to push the subject. Instead she followed him, squinting at the dark line of trees.

"I hope you realize human night vision isn't great," she commented.

"I know," he grunted distractedly, "But..." he opened his omni tool for a moment before looking up at the line of hills at her back. "It shouldn't be long now..."

Following his gaze, Shepard stood to look beyond the valley his family's house sat in, to the vast starry sky that blanketed the ceiling above. She waited a few breaths, expectation steeling her for some revelation, but there was only darkness and the sounds of the forest. A quick glance over her shoulder saw Garrus still looking down at this omni tool. Her lips had parted to complain, but as she turned back to the sky she noticed a soft blue glow beginning beyond the jagged hills. It crept along the ridge like a silver lining that slowly grew brighter and brighter, the colour draining away as it lit the darkness around them. Then, a sliver of hot white appeared, slicing along the horizon and announcing the lunar dawn of Menae.

"Our moon reflects a bright, but much gentler side of our sun," Garrus explained softly as the soft blue glow began to spread, illuminating the slightly overgrown courtyard they stood in. "We should have good light the next few nights." Shepard could see easily now, her eyes taking in the new details of her surroundings. Garrus had returned his attention to the woods, pulling back some heavy leaves, sending a rippling effect through the bushes and trees. With several loud creaks, the moon's rays filtered into the forest, revealing a rough stone path that led up into the hills.

"Clever," Shepard remarked, impressed.

"What? Did you think we were going to sit inside the entire time and play board games?"

"Board games... is that what you like to call it," she smirked and he cocked a brow plate. "I'll admit, I wasn't sure what to expect."

"I hope you're an outdoors person. I mean, I thought you would be... but I never asked."

"Lead on," Shepard coaxed and he dutifully led her into the thick woods. Like a narrow, walled hallway, the path was lined with vegetation which seemingly undulated in annoyance on either side of them. The deeper they went, the larger the trees became, the path gradually feeling less constricted as the canopy rose high above them. In areas where darkness still remained, tiny pinpricks of light had begun to appear. Green alien fireflies darted and hovered in effervescent clouds - the lime ghosts wandering gracefully among the trees.

"All these glowing flowers..." she began, reaching out with a small stick towards a flower she had noticed growing in patches along the path. Just as the stick came close, the flower collapsed in on itself and Shepard jerked back in surprise.

"Carnivorous," Garrus snickered. "They absorb the sun's radiation during the day, at night they use that energy to attract the eedle worms," he pointed off into the darkness at a particularly large clump of glowing green. "They don't have wings - they're like little worm shaped jet propulsion reaction engines. They spread pollen, get eaten, fly into bonfires and eyes, typical bug stuff."

"Garrus Vakarian, vigilante and passionate... naturalist."

He laughed at that, turning back to the path. "Yeah right."

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The transport shuddered to the left, sending the armoured shoulders of the twelve seated turian marines knocking together like a row of marionettes. It was the same shaky descent he remembered from his very first trip to the turian home world. There was no point attempting to get ones bearings from the horizon, as the ship's small windows revealed only the black nothingness of night and the blur of moonlit clouds outside.

Kaidan looked up from where he sat at the end of one of the two long benches that ran the length of the compact ship. Standing between his team and the cockpit, and with his left hand gripping a bar on the low ceiling, Osaro steadied himself until the dampeners kicked in and he could continue.

"Shuttle drop is at the south side of the Sevian river. The terrain is hilly and the vegetation thick. Secure the landing zone with a concentration to the west. "

Every pair of eyes in the back of the shuttle was fixed on the spectre, except for Kaidan's. It was becoming increasingly impossible to control the clenching of his jaw or the unbearable way his stomach kept turning. Shepard's words were like gentle waves in his head, comfortingly agonizing - they had been slowly eating away at his resolve...

_'I only want you to be happy'._

Grimacing, he tried to focus on the spectre as he diligently drilled his strangely vague orders into his team for the umpteenth time - but Osaro's words kept dissolving into the ether that seemed to occupy the space outside Kaidan's thoughts. The more he tried to put it out of his mind, the more insistent the memories came. Shepard was the only reason he was even sitting there. He had owed her his life, maybe a dozen times over, but never so clearly as he had after Virmire. It had taken him years to make peace with that debt, followed by long nights more recently spent convincing himself he had made it up to her by buying her as much time as he could without starting humanity's second inter-galactic war. So why did he still feel like a traitor?

_Eyes to your commanding officer_, he reprimanded himself silently.

Osaro, like most spectres, usually worked alone, but going after Shepard seemed to be the exception, as he imagined it would be for most. Still, it didn't seem like the seasoned spectre's style. Chosen entirely from the ranks onboard their turian ships, most of the team seemed glaringly lacking in experience and skill. Unfortunately, Kaidan's protests had become little more than background noise.

The ship shuddered again and the solitary human gripped the edge of the bench, trying to avoid the shoulder of the heavy armoured turian to his right. Osaro had turned his attention to the pilot, their conversation muffled as they negotiated over the comm with the local planetary security station. Being denied immediate official clearance for a direct decent to Palaven's surface by the hierarchy hadn't slowed them down - the spectre had simply disregarding it as a minor complication, one which he seemed intent on solving with stalling tactics.

Even if Osaro's rank gave him all rights and privileges on every council and protectorate world – confusion with local law enforcement was always a potential risk and could quickly turn messy if not lethal. Kaidan had watched in vain as his objections again went ignored, trumped by the spectre's fanatical unwillingness to give Shepard the chance to slip through his talons again.

Osaro had turned back to the cabin, the harsh light above him giving him a stony appearance, his tattoos looking like bloody claw marks across his face. He was imposing in his worn, white armour, the cabin lights creating shadows under his brow and turning his eyes into black, ominous pits as he looked down his nose at this team. "We are not going to be dealing with slack jawed, barefaced colonials," he explained in his typical low, measured voice. "These are members of a respected Palavian family and should be treated as such. This is a green zone, low density civilian sector - even still, noise and disturbances are to be kept to a minimum - in quiet, out quiet. We are not expecting an armed response, but that being said, our target is not to be underestimated. Treat all encountered persons as possible threats. "

Looking up, Kaidan met the turian's bottomless gaze. "We are hoping for a peaceful resolution," Osaro added. "So, under no circumstances shall any of you engage targets unless attacked or ordered to do so directly from myself or Commander Alenko."

The marines appeared to be listening intently, but Kaidan could see the uncertainty in their eyes, their open gloved hands fidgeting at their sides. It was possible he was reading turian body language wrong. He wanted to believe it wasn't nervousness he was seeing. Still, there had surely been a better selection than this from onboard the ship - hell, even he could think of half a dozen better candidates.

"Let's do one final weapons check. I don't want any accidents," Kaidan barked out with frustration. The turian marines, to their credit, hardly glanced amongst themselves before obediently fulfilling his request. Grabbing his weapon off his back, Kaidan stared down at the unfamiliar rifle. There had been only one non-lethal levo weapon onboard the ship and he had insisted they bring it. Two non-lethal dextro weapons had also been brought, one carried by Osaro as a secondary weapon. To Kaidan, it had felt like an inadequate compromise.

Amid the clicking and shuffling made by the squad as they unclipped their weapons, Kaidan rose from his seat and turned towards the rear of the ship. As subtle as he'd hoped his exit had been, Osaro's eyes felt like sun light through a magnifying glass on the biotic's back as he stepped into the partially enclosed space at the tail of the shuttle. It wasn't quite a room, more of a closet without a door where munitions, gear and emergency supplies were stacked in orderly compartments. Still, it afforded him a moment of privacy. He made the motion to grab an extra dispenser of medigel before cautiously glancing over his shoulder. As expected, Osaro was still watching, but the spectre met his eyes for only a moment before turning to the cockpit.

Returning to the stacks of supplies, Kaidan let out a quiet exhale. Never had doing the right thing ever felt so awful. Sure he had moments of doubt, but in the past the right choice had always seemed so clear. Now, like a poison, the numbness of indecision was spreading, to his arms, legs, even his lips. If the transport had swayed in that moment he was certain he would have hit the bulkhead and shattered.

This was his duty. He was preventing a war. This was not a betrayal.

Damn it, nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

From behind him he could hear Osaro once again issuing instructions to his men, his voice free of any anxiety or even excitement. He was cool and collected, and unbelievably he almost sounded bored. "Once I have located the target, our objective will be restraint and extraction as quickly as possible-"

Terrible possibilities had Kaidan's mind swimming; the overwhelming need for action had practically left him in a state of paralysis. Leaning forward, he quickly opened his omni tool, willing his fingers to stay steady as he considered the logistics. The message had to be short. Hopefully he would be on local, independent network carriers now – less chance for direct surveillance. Keep it short. Not too many details...

"Commander," a low voice said behind him, and Kaidan fumbled badly with his omni tool as he closed it. Turning, he found Osaro, his eyes glaring with an intensity that seemed feral. He braced himself for the worst. "Is there a problem?" the turian asked, looking down at where the human's omni tool had been moments before.

"Just setting an alarm for dawn," Kaidan lied. "Don't want to be caught unprepared."

Osaro's face remained impossibly devoid of expression as he studied his human protégé. "We can't afford to take that long," he grunted.

Glancing past the spectre, Kaidan nodded at the rest of the team seated in the shuttle, hoping for a distraction. "Are you sure bringing these marines is a good idea? They seem... unsure."

Not answering right away, the spectre looked back at the seated men before returning his gaze to the biotic. "Definitely a good idea," he hissed with a strange quiver of his mandibles. Pulling off his weapon, Osaro checked it briefly with such a habitual familiarity that it almost looked theatrical. On his hip rested the untouched, dextro tranquilizer gun, and Kaidan's eyes lingered on it. "When we arrive, keep to my right and don't get more than a few steps behind. We need this to be quick." Osaro instructed cryptically as he slapped his weapon into place on his back.

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Looking back the way they had come, their movements had left a scar that cut through the vegetation, sending a wake of shivering moonlit leaves stretching out behind them. They had been walking quietly for several minutes, and by now the moon was high enough that seeing deep into the shadowy woods was effortless.

"I wish I could take all the credit for this, but it was Mordin's idea," Garrus explained as he pushed apart the leaves ahead of them with a stick. "I'm sure being able to enjoy a day on a planet where you didn't have to worry about your skin blistering off would have been more enjoyable..."

"Actually I like this," Shepard answered, but her voice sounded distant, and he couldn't help the worried glance he sent over his shoulder. Eyes glued to the woods, his companion seemed to be absorbed in their surroundings. When she caught him watching, she smiled. "It's been a long time since I've walked through a forest without expecting to shoot someone. I think I used to like things like this."

The path had been on a fairly steady incline into the hills, but was finally levelling off as the trail cut across a crest and the rocky outcrops began to rise on either side of them. Far off in the distance, out of sight, waves could be heard crashing against the shore. Garrus paused, comparing the landscape he saw to the one etched deep into his memories. They had passed a few forks in the path, and the woods had changed as was expected, but the stones and rocky hill tops couldn't lie. This was the place.

"Are we lost?" Shepard asked, her eyes following his as she tried to understand what he was seeing as he scanned the tops of the stony ridges.

"Lost? Never."

Motioning her to follow, he led her along a path that descended between the hills. The trees were larger here, but seeing was still easy beneath the moon's watchful eye, the light causing the numerous liquid sacks hanging from the high branches to twinkle and shimmer like giant frozen rain drops.

At the base of the path, the vegetation came to an abrupt end and he smiled to himself as he heard the quick intake of breath behind him. Not much had changed since he had been there last. Below them was a gorge, the tree covered hills pulling away on all sides, leaving in the centre a large pool of water with steam gently rolling off of it.

"Sometimes I think I've seen so much in my life already. And then other times, when I'm with you, I feel like I've been asleep since I was fifteen."

He smiled. "Come on," he urged, finding the narrow path that led the rest of the way down the slope. They picked their way carefully down the overgrown path until they were standing on one of the giant stone slabs that jutted out over the edge of the water.

Shepard was looking around with wide eyes. "Garrus, this place is amazing. These stones..." she was running her hands along the side of one massive vertical slab, the once clear carvings now shallow dimples in the stone's surface.

"Temple ruins," he answered, letting his bag slide off his shoulder. He motioned lazily around at the semi-purposeful stacks of stones long left to be absorbed back into the wilderness. "There are lots of places like this scattered all over Palaven. A small collection are kept preserved, as for the others, there's not much left of them now." Shepard joined him by the water, looking across its shimmering surface. "The pool is temporary," he explained. "The rocks heat up in the day time, and then at night, when Menae passes over, its gravity pulls the warm water out of the ground. I heard that... humans like to swim... so I thought you might like this."

The curious smile she flashed him was bright in the moonlight, the skin around her eyes wrinkling, nostrils flaring. She wasn't saying anything, and for some reason he could do nothing except continue to fill the air with his own voice. "Before serving on the Normandy, I had only passing encounters with humans on the Citadel. My very first night on the SR1, I spent hours taking a crash course in humanity that I downloaded off the extranet. It was a desperate attempt to reduce the chance of embarrassing myself in front of the crew. The next morning I asked Ashley how often she shaved her face," he gave an embarrassed laugh. "She actually slapped me... Anyway, I remember reading something about humans and buoyancy..." His words trailed off as, without a word, she had begun to disrobe. All he could do was watch her undress, her fingers pulling away the layers of fabric, seemingly unaware of his rambling. "Of course, just try to remember, evolution didn't really have water in mind when it sculpted us turians. We sink like stones..."

At the edge of the water and with her eyes turned up to the sky, Shepard stood naked except for the chain that hung from her neck, her skin painted white under the moon's gaze. It was a glimpse of the girl from his dream, breathing life into a version of his lover that he had never been sure existed. What was she thinking? Were the longing looks she gave skyward directed at some mysterious human deity, or did she constantly worry about the future, the people she'd lost or the ones still by her side? Why did it seem he knew everything and nothing about her at the same time? With all the concentration he could muster, he took in the moment, trying to burn the snapshot into his memory. All the things he had fallen in love with - the alien curves of her body, the unnaturally smooth, plateless skin and the delicate strands of golden hair that crowned her head, the strength and tone of her muscled legs. Those deep green eyes that looked at him with such love, despite the atrocities they had seen. Each part of her had become familiar and he loved them all - every soft arch, hard angle, each faded scar and old wound, they all sung to him in one heart stopping note.

A single, round, strangely stubby toe dipped into the water, and he let out a silent breath as he witnessed her entire body react to the water, a quiver running up the muscles in her leg and through her back. Like a living thing, the pool rippled in response, the image of the moon jumping and flickering. In the next instant her foot descended and the warm water quickly enveloped her as she slid in, taking a few steps until only her head peaked above its darkness.

"Coming?" she asked, the want in her eyes betraying the innocence in her voice.

"Just taking a moment to admire the view," he explained distractedly. Opening his omni tool, he motioned to take her picture."Mind?" Though she cocked an eyebrow, she smiled and nodded her consent. Standing in water up to her shoulders, like ice, the tiny ripples had settled so that her mirror image lay perfectly reflected below her. "There are two of you," he whispered as he caught the moment with his omni tool. She shook her head and dragged her hand across the water.

"Not anymore."

Her words struck him as cryptic, but he was quick to brush them off. Tugging off his clothing, Garrus dropped the pieces into a pile next to their bags. He released the small bracelet that contained his omni tool and placed it carefully on top of the pile. When he looked back at the water, she was watching him, only her eyes peeking out above the surface. Carefully he stepped into the pool, very aware of how his lover's eyes studied every inch of his nakedness in that way only humans seemed to do. After all this time, her gaze still made him nervous. Feeling his way along the bottom with his feet, he waded in up to his shoulders, stopping when he met a hand beneath the water. Shepard's fingers pressed against the plates of his chest, her eyes fluttering, her soft brow furrowing in concentration. Her nostrils flared as she took a long breath through her nose.

"Your body is so very alien, and yet I love every inch of it," she whispered. "Is that so strange?"

"No, I don't think so," he sighed in response, watching as she gracefully drew away and disappeared beneath the water. Turning in a slow circle, he mapped the little eruptions of bubbles that gave away her position before he felt a familiar hand on his leg. Her nimble fingers sending shivers up his spine as they traced a line up his calf. When she surfaced again, she was smiling.

Her laugh was soft, innocent, and Garrus felt his breath catch as he was again reminded of the fresh faced girl from his dream.

"God I can't remember the last time I swam," she mused, turning in one spot as she took in their surroundings. The rocks were steep on either side of them, the narrow valley becoming shallower at each end where it joined the surrounding hills. At one end, a massive tree hung over the water, its branches heavy with crystal teardrops. "I can hear waves," she whispered, her head tilted as she listened.

"The Drallic Sea is three more hills west of here."

Shepard nodded, her eyes returning to the semi piled stones along the edge of the pool. "You said this was a temple? What did they worship here?"

"Well, traditional worship died out a long time ago... we take ourselves far too seriously now. Our old religion is just mythology and children's stories." Turning his eyes upward he pointed to the moon. "This temple was for Menae. She was a protector... a guide," he explained. "They said Palaven was the bed of a goddess, and the moon was her eye, illuminating the darkness. Her back turned to the universe, she feels alone and is unable to sleep. Each cycle her eye opens, and seeing her reflection in the calm waters she is reassured, and her eye closes again." Garrus looked up at the bright moon thoughtfully. "If she only turned around, she would see all the stars and know she has never been alone."

"It's a beautiful story," Shepard murmured, moving towards him, her hands seeking him out under the cover of the water. Garrus let out a long breath, his eyes drifting closed as his other senses took over. Beyond the darkness was Shepard's familiar scent, mixed with those of Palaven to create a strange merging of the past and present in his mind. The soft whisper of her breath was like a gentle breeze against his cheek. Even when she didn't speak, he could always feel her questions in her touch. Her body gave away so much.

"I knew you like this once," he admitted, "just familiar smells and quiet breaths." She had moved closer to him, her bare thighs finding his legs in the depths of the water. Savouring the feather light feeling of her against him, he let his hands travel the soft curve of her hips as she leaned forward, her hands curling around the plated base of his neck. Each point where they touched seemed to burn, but in a way that made him pull her closer against him so there was no room for water or air between them. A soft finger traced the edge of his brow and gently ran across the lids of his closed eyes. "Just memories."

"But it wasn't enough," she stated quietly.

"No," he whispered warily, "it wasn't."

In his head, the girl from his dream smiled at him. They were both young and innocent. Her touch was tender, yet demanding. The movement of her hands across the sensitive skin of his neck, tracing the valleys between the plates on his chest, was numbing his thoughts. "I went looking for answers too," she admitted, her fingers pausing their movements. "When I was on the Shadow Broker base, there was so much information... I thought I would find something to connect my old life with this one." Shepard's hands drifted down his arms, the soft pads of her fingers testing the firmness of the muscles there. "Instead I found Liara."

Garrus felt his stomach turn. Opening his eyes, the waters of the still pool stretched out before him like polished onyx. Shepard, like a disembodied apparition, was ghostly pale skin and lips, her green eyes and blonde hair washed in twilight. Was this the vision his exploited companion had seen that late night on Camala? An ephemeral spectre staring back at her with questioning eyes. "Liara... what did she tell you?"

"She told me enough."

All the apologies he had ever considered seemed to evaporate under her gaze, making it impossible not to look away. "Don't be sorry," Shepard continued, turning his face back to hers. "What she offered... a chance to touch something intangible, something so personal... how could _anyone_ say no?"

Dread seeped into his veins. How much did she know? What had she seen? Bullets and passion... they had always been enough to keep things in motion, moving them farther away from the past until it was beyond the horizon - at least, so he thought.

"At first it seemed like only a moment. A glimpse of you in a fog of emotions and memory that Liara's mind mirrored back at me," she explained. "I didn't feel any different... but now... at night, bits and pieces come to me." Part of him wanted to slink away in shame, but she was pressing herself closer to him, her bare skin sliding against the smooth plates of his chest. "Images I don't recognize... people I have never met... an endless sea of cracking ice, of warm Palaven afternoons..." She paused, thinking for a moment before speaking again. "Then one night I dreamt of fighting through a sea of people in the Citadel docks. Searching desperate for someone who was gone forever... I thought I was looking for you, but..." Her eyes were sympathetic as considered her next words. "I never thought I would experience my death from two different points of view, let alone one."

"That night you awoke saying your own name..."

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Do you dream of me?" She finally asked, her question tainted with a slight waver he had rarely heard in her voice. Behind her the moon stared down at its reflection in the tranquil waters.

"I do," he admitted, placing his hand over the one she still had resting on his chest. "It only started recently..." he paused, the images from his dream still red hot in his mind. "Your family..." he began with some uncertainty. "There was nothing you could have done to save them Shepard..." His voice was quiet and he pulled her close, splaying his hands across her back. Leaning in, he spoke just loud enough for her to hear. "You were right to run." His meaning took a moment to register. It was only slightly that her lip quivered against his cheek.

"I've never told anyone about that," she said weakly. Though he couldn't see her expression, he could feel the muscles of her face contracting.

"I'm sorry-"

"No," she interrupted, pulling back to look him in the eye. "No, I want you to know," she continued somewhat desperately, her breath hot against his skin as her hand caressed his head. "And I want to know you." She had changed gears quickly, her lips already on his neck, kissing and nipping a path across the soft flesh. Her knees had found the edges of his hips, and she pressed against him so she could lean forward.

Maybe they would never talk about it again, but it seemed to be enough that he knew - that she wouldn't have to carry the burden alone any longer. Neither of them would.

"Never alone." His voice was ragged now, his hands jumping to life as they dragged across her body, trying to cover as much area as they could. It was like a massive weight had suddenly vanished from his shoulders. The peaks of her breasts were brushing against his chest, and of its own accord, he could feel his body reacting to hers - powerless to stop its now ingrained attraction to her alien form. How they had so easily adapted to each other. A hiss escaped his lips as her fingers found him in the water, running the length of him with frenzied eagerness. The typical calculated precision of her movements was missing, but her carelessness was appreciated as any concentrated effort would have sent him over the edge.

With shallow breaths he stared up at her, "at least we'll both be spared having to live the other one's death or... near death." The thought brought the memory back to him in perfect clarity, that moment she stepped into his madness, alive and poised to drag him back from a precipice her echo had been unable to.

She had been moving him backwards, and he grunted as he bumped into the stone edge of the pool. Her hands were all over him under the water, her lips exploring his chest. "But I wish you could know... the feeling of seeing you alive again."

"I think I already know."

His fingers curled into her wet hair and he let out a long breath as her legs curling around him, her breath shallow. The water made her slippery, and somehow the design of her body finally made sense. Gently she was nudging him until he lifted himself out of the shallow water and onto the edge of the protruding stone. Climbing onto him, her legs fit neatly on either side of his hips as she leaned him back on his forearms.

Lips brushed against his cheek, followed closely by her hands, their path heading downward. Before it progressed any farther, he sat up and drew his hands up her back, pulling her close. "Shepard..." Her name was a hoarse moan as her heat brushed his own. Passionate confessions licked the tip of his tongue, but the hypnotic way she was sliding her slick body against his was enough to keep them just beyond realization. Catching his hands, she placed them over her breasts, urging him on. The movement of her hips was demanding as she pushed his shoulders back towards the ground. The woman above him had a fiery intense gaze, her chest rising with each heavy breath through her parted lips. When he attempted again to speak, she dipped down and silenced him with her tongue, before moving to the smooth skin of his throat, her hands holding his arms at his sides.

"No regrets," Shepard ordered emphatically, her thighs squeezing against his sides as she pressed her hips into his. He'd been straining against her touch, and now he could feel her body yielding to accommodate him, her bottom lip catching in her teeth as she sank onto him. His back reflexively arched against her and she gasped. It was more than he could bare, and he pressed his taloned palms into her rear as she closed the distance between them. It was a struggle to keep things slow and deliberate, the nonnegotiable demand for harder and deeper was insistent as she ground against him.

The pace of her movements was impossible to rein in, and he met every one of her downward thrusts with a rise of his hips, trying to keep their undulating rhythm smooth. Her eyes had closed in bliss, and he forced himself to sit up and pull her against him, slowing her to longer strokes. One of her narrow fingers touched the place where they were joined, her eyes peeking out below heavy lids as she traced the line of tattoos that ran up his chest. Whatever evidence of their previous union he had left on her body had all but vanished. His right hand grazed the spot on her shoulder before running down her side.

"You know, they give a lot of tattoos in prison," Shepard gasped, still moving against him, her voice too heavy to sound funny.

"No," he answered quietly, his right hand mapping out where his talons had once left red lines along her cream coloured skin. Finally, he pressed his hand flat between her breasts, covering the pendant that hung around her neck. "I want you exactly as you are. Don't ever change."

Leaning forward he rocked her back just enough so he could press his face against her chest, lavishing the yearning flesh there as her head dropped back wantonly. Catching one nipple between his lips released an encouraging sigh from his lover, and so his hand leapt to the other. Fingers clawing at him, she was desperately trying to pull him closer as she pressed against him again and again, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts. Their movements were frantic now and he let out a low moan against her neck. Hands on her back, he inhaled the salty sweetness of her, of the night air and the dampness of the forest, taking in the intoxicating heat of her body as it suddenly gripped him, ripping a cry from them both.

Unchecked voices caught in ecstasy, their passion echoed off the silent stone sentries that surrounded them.

In only a few moments, the shuttle had emptied with effortless efficiency. Beneath the moonlight the marines quickly secured the landing area with their weapons drawn, awaiting their next orders. A familiar calm had come over Kaidan, despite his previous anxiety; he jumped out of the shuttle with a comfortable confidence. Alliance training had done its job.

"Create a perimeter and hold this position," Osaro ordered his men, "until you receive further instructions from me." The majority of the marines acknowledged him with stoic nods. Four others stood to the side. "Fire team, wait at the next check point for my signal." Satisfied, the spectre gestured at his human protégé and they turned towards the woods.

"You're leaving them?" Kaidan hissed as he expanded his weapon. Osaro didn't answer. Instead he led them into the thick vegetation, the plants curling away with the fluidity of a hundred snakes. Jesus he hated snakes. As he hesitated, a nearby tree gave out a loud creak and Kaidan clenched his jaw and pushed his way in. He was going to be a spectre after all – it was a job not meant to be comfortable. The pace was fast, and Kaidan found himself hustling to keep up, attempting to avoid the strange looking flora and desperately trying to ignore the green apparitions he was certain he had seen drifting in the shadows. After several minutes of brisk jogging, they finally stopped along a ridge. Checking his omni tool, the spectre pointed down a short hill to a lit building.

"The Vakarian house. We'll look for Shepard there first. Let's head down to the edge of the courtyard. You wait near the back of the house while I approach the front."

Kaidan had a sudden moment of clarity. "All the marines you left at the drop off... they're just decoys?"

The spectre nodded. "Planetary security will have tracked the shuttle landing. They'll find them first. The officers and the marines are similar in rank. While they waste their time questioning each other, we'll find Shepard and call back the shuttle."

Osaro led them to the edge of the surrounding gardens, the dark house staring back at them with black windows like dead eyes. There were ghost in that house, he could feel it... maybe generations of Vakarians staring back through the years at him, cursing him. Together they crept closer to the imposing building until Osaro gave him the signal to hold his position.

"Doesn't look like anyone is home," Kaidan observed quietly. Osaro's mandibles quivered as he frowned, opening his omni tool.

"I've got heat signatures," he replied in a low whisper before leaving the protection of the vegetation to approach the house. He crept along the edge of a wall, the gardens offering him a good cover of darkness from the massive glowing moon above them. But just as he got close to the house, a bright light suddenly came on near the back door. A large, burly silhouette was standing at the top of the stairs.

"Osaro Rysarr. I know that's you. Come out where I can see you."

There was a long pause and Kaidan heard the spectre swear quietly to himself in turian slang the translator didn't pick up. "Err Vakarian," Osaro called back, standing up straight and stepping out of the shadows. "I must apologize for the late hour."

"You must," he heard the elder Vakarian answer, descending a few steps. "Why are you slinking around my house?"

Garrus' father was a bit taller than Osaro, his age giving him a stark appearance that made Kaidan thankful he had never had to question him directly about his son. The spectre gave a subtle gesture to his hidden companion to stay put, and Kaidan crouched farther down in the bushes, trying desperately not to agitate it into some sort of fit. Osaro's back straightened slightly, in an almost embarrassed manner, as they spoke in low voices. This was a strange dynamic. As a spectre, Osaro ranked higher than Drusus – so why this back and forth? After several more words, the elder Vakarian gestured up to the house and the two of them climbed the short stairs and disappeared inside.

"She's not going to be in there," Kaidan whispered to himself, watching the door shut behind them. Briefly glancing around at his surroundings, he shifted uncomfortably. His skin was crawling at the strange plants brushing against him, despite the fact that he was practically armoured entirely from the chin down. Around him the gardens were eerie, emitting strange creaks and rustles. Every now and then there was an ominous jingle of chains that sent the hair Kaidan's neck standing on end.

_They couldn__'__t even be sure Shepard was here._

His fingers were aching, and he realized he was gripping his weapon far too tightly. Bending down lower, Kaidan checked his omni tool... no messages. Osaro still hadn't emerged from the house and Kaidan sighed in annoyance. Hiding in the bushes was a waste of time...

Without warning a firm hand clamped down on his arm, and he swung around with his weapon half raised, startled. The hand was turian, and from among the shivering leaves he spotted a familiar set of bright blue eyes.

"Jesus," Kaidan hissed, lowering his weapon.

"Sorry," Solana whispered, her eyes wide and earnest. "I got your message... well, what there was of it."

He glanced past her and determined she was alone. "Where is Shepard?" He could see the hesitation in her eyes, and new that at least his former commander had been there. The look on her face also confessed the terrible thing he was asking her to do. Glancing down he noticed the back pack she held, the supplies poking out from the pockets. "Listen to me. I know Shepard was here. If I don't get her off Palaven right now, Planetary Security is going to show up, they'll find out who Shepard is and it will end up broadcast all across the homeworlds. As soon as her location becomes public knowledge, her life will be hopelessly in danger." Solana was still hesitating, and Kaidan placed a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know if your brother could handle suffering that loss again."

It had been too long since he'd seen her last, and the feeling of his hand on her lightly clothed shoulder was electric. In spite of himself, he inched closer to her, his fingers itching to touch her bare skin. She hadn't noticed his staring, her eyes glued to the bag in her hands, mandibles twitching with uncertainty as she considered his words. "They had already headed into the woods when I got your message," she explained softly. "I've tried contacting Garrus dozens of times, but he isn't responding... so I was going out to find them."

"And give them a head start?" he suggested quietly, motioning towards the bag. Her expression was unreadable. "Look, you know this area. We can look for them together," he whispered, collapsing his weapon. "But I can't leave without her."

Solana frowned, "Garrus might not be so willing to let you to do that."

"I think he knows the risks."

Finally she nodded, glancing between him and the forest. "Are you certain you will be able to keep up?"

Kaidan nodded. "I'll be right behind you."

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He was sighing against her, the warmth of his essence filling the space between them as they leaned heavily against each other. In his ear he could hear her heart, beating fast and strong. It was good to feel alive.

Shepard was reaching behind him, the place where they were joined allowing just enough give for her to rummage around in his bag. Opening his eyes, she was offering him the bottle of wine with a satisfied smile. "Dextro neutral wine isn't great," he huffed, bringing the bottle to his lips. "But at this point we could be drinking recycled toilet water for all I care."

"You've just got a taste for it because that's all we've got onboard the Normandy," she joked, taking the wine from him and enjoying a long drink. Holding the bottle between them, her eyes stared down at it thoughtfully for some time. "Shepard," he admonished with a long R, "stop looking at it like it's your last."

Shrugging, she set down the bottle. "I'm trying not to." Pulling her back into his arms, Garrus gently edged them back into the water, holding her against him as he waded back into the centre of the warm pool. She was still slowly rocking against him, her head tilting back with her eyes fixed on the stars.

"They won't keep you locked up forever," he assured her, letting his hands wrap around her, talking into the soft dip of her collarbone. The reality of her eventual departure couldn't be ignored, and clearly it was occupying them both. "I'll visit... and bring you presents hidden in tenderly decorated baked goods," he promised with a smirk before dragging his blue tongue along her neck.

He was rewarded with a soft cheek pressed against his forehead, but she didn't speak for some time. Eventually she slid out of his arms and he watched with uncertainty as she swam to the edge of the pool. There, one lean, ghostly arm reached for her clothes, which she fumbled with for a moment before sliding back into the water in one smooth motion. As her head disappeared below the surface, the ripples travelled like a foreboding shockwave from the point she had entered, and in those long seconds Garrus was reminded of what it was like in a world without her. He hadn't realized that all this time the emptiness and hollowness was patiently waiting for its inevitable return. A breath escaped his lips when she reappeared before him, looking back at him through wet lashes, her hair slick to her head. She looked so bare, so mortal.

"Garrus, I want you to have something," she began, her hands finding his under the water and pressing something into his palm. Though he had never held them, he knew immediately what the object was in his hand. "I used to think the easiest way to live was to block out the past – it seemed easier than trying to filter the good from the bad." Her face wrinkled with distress as she looked down at the water between them. "After waking up... some memories are only feelings now, lacking any sort of detail or clarity. Like picking up a book and reading the title, only to find the pages are blank, empty. Some part of me was missing, but now, I like to think that maybe some of those moments live on in you."

She was dragging his hands out of the water, exposing the bent and charred metal tags. The moon had illuminated the jagged outline of the name etched into the surface. It was a gift, a pledge... something terrifyingly meaningful.

"At one time, my name and my service were the only things that gave my life any meaning." Finding the edge of the coiled chain, Shepard draped the tags over his head. Her hand paused on them before grasping the pendant that hung around her own neck. "There's more worth fighting for now. I want you to remember that... even if we're not together, part of me will always be with you."

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He had been willing to keep going, but Solana had heard his laboured breaths and insisted they pause. At that altitude the air was thinner than he was used to, and his body was struggling. Searching the surrounding hills on foot at such an intense pace for the past half hour had yielded nothing. The slight rocky point they had stopped at revealed their position mid way along a shallow valley. The moon was still high in the sky and the woods filled with strange noises.

"I'm sorry," Kaidan huffed, noticing that Solana too seemed winded, though she was doing a better job of hiding it. "I just need a minute-"

He stopped midsentence as a sound drew their gaze upward. High over head a shuttle flew low over the trees, sweeping in a wide arc over the valley. Quickly they stepped under the cover of a large tree, frozen and listening intently. In the next moment there was another sound - voices... turian. In a heartbeat Solana was hurrying Kaidan into the thick vegetation, the ground tilting downward and sending them skidding ungracefully against the squirming and twitching leaves. Satisfied they were far enough off the path, Solana pressed him to the ground beside her as they watched and waited for their visitors to appear. The noise of their escape seemed like it had been deafening as they desperately tried to silence their heavy breaths. "They'll have scanners looking for heat signatures. Stay low."

Beside him, Solana lay crouched like a leopard, the plates and colour of her skin easily blending in with the trees and ground. Had they been just animals living on the same planet, she would have been a frightening thing to encounter in a dark woods, and likely very lethal. Would she have torn him to pieces? Probably.

There was shuffling on the path, the voices muffled as the group jogged past, their shadows flickering through the breaks in the trees. Gradually the voices faded and Solana gestured for him to follow her. Backing away, they had no choice but to forge ahead in the untamed woods. It was an almost impossible task to do quietly, but any alternative such as trekking along the tops of the rocky hills would have gotten them spotted.

"Their range isn't very good, and there is enough wildlife that they shouldn't be able to pick us up at this distance," Solana explained under her breath.

"Who were those people?" Kaidan asked, trying to keep his voice down.

Solana's mouth opened to answer, but was interrupted by a far off rumble of thunder. They exchanged glances before she spoke. "Planetary Security," Solana whispered to him. "I couldn't make out any real details."

They had taken too long. The presence of an armed party of PPS officers meant they had finished wasting their time with the marines and had headed out to find out what was really going on. When his omni tool beeped, Kaidan reluctantly opened the video channel.

"Where are you?" It was Osaro. The turian was annoyed, his face lit only by the glow of his own omni tool. It was hard to know where the spectre was.

"I'm in the woods. I just saw a group of security officers," Kaidan explained quietly.

"How many?"

"Four, maybe five," Kaidan answered. The spectre paused.

"You're not where I left you."

Kaidan shot Solana a pained look. She nodded up ahead and quietly moved away from him.

"I'm trying to track down Shepard. When I find her I'll bring her back to the Vakarian homestead." Before Osaro could respond, Kaidan quickly closed the channel. He expected another transmission, but none came. Ahead of him, Solana had paused, her head cocked to the side. "Wha-" he began but she raised her hand, motioning for him to listen.

After a moment of silence a faint echo was reaching them, a voice, its direction lost along the hill tops.

"Come on," Solana urged pressing forward into the trees. As quietly as they could, they trekked over the adjoining hill and around a wide bend, leaving them on a stony ridge. His guide had crouched behind a fairly spiky plant, which Kaidan personally would not have chosen as a hiding spot. He approached her carefully and followed the direction of her eyes.

In the gully below he caught sight of a bright reflection. The moon, on a pool of glassy water, lit two figures, entwined in each other's arms. A gentle laugh echoed up the stone walls of the hills and Kaidan felt his heart quicken.

"Wait here," he instructed before he crawled into the overgrowth. Circling around, he slid down the far side of the hill as gently as he could until he was as close as he could get without being seen. The two figures in the water were talking quietly, their eyes locked on the others. Expanding his pistol, Kaidan was preparing to make a move when Shepard lifted her hands out of the water and tenderly placed something over Garrus' head. Kaidan squinted, until the moon light caught the edge and the mystery was revealed.

He wasn't sure if anyone would call what they did kissing. Her lips were docile and elastic compared to his, but he seemed to know how to tilt his head just right, to open his mouth just so. They paused, and he held up her hand, pressing it to his mouth as she laughed dreamily.

Maybe some small part of him had held out hope, denied the reality of what was between them... but seeing them together... something inside him ached.

Kaidan's attention snapped back to the lovers as he realized Garrus had frozen; his gaze glued the woods where the biotic was hiding. Whether he had seen, heard or smelled him, Kaidan knew it was time. In one swift motion he raised his weapon and stepped forward.

"Garrus... Shepard."

The two lovers were motionless, their eyes wide with shock. "Kaidan?" his former commander squinted, and Kaidan stepped further out of the shadows.

"On behalf of the Citadel Council and the Human Alliance, I am placing you both under arrest."

"Kaidan," it was Garrus this time, the two of them still like statues in the middle of the water, though the turian's eyes were frantically scanning the wall of trees around them.

"Commander Shepard, you have been charged with the murder of a council spectre, mass genocide, war crimes and treason against the Council and the Systems Alliance..." Kaidan felt his voice falter, his heart beating out of his chest - but just as he was about to continue, there was a commotion in the woods and he turned to find three armed turians emerging into a clearing behind him.

"Stop! Drop your weapon!" One of them called out, the three of them raising their rifles in unison.

Kaidan didn't move. "Identify yourselves."

"Officers of Palaven Planetary Security. You are in clear violation of sanctioned civilian weapons laws."

"My name is Kaidan Alenko, Commander. Alliance Navy. You are interfering in Council business."

One of the turians lowered his weapon, checking his omni tool briefly. "You have no authority here," the officer snapped with agitation. "You are not listed as a spectre."

"This isn't necessary!" Shepard yelled, earning her a brief glance from Kaidan and the PPS officers. She had moved closer to the edge of the pool, the water now only up to her waist. Clearly the officers had not yet recognized her.

"We need backup at coordinates 933 243 .2 .7," a second one relayed into his comm.

"I have council authority! Stand down!" Kaidan's pistol turned from the couple in the pool to the three turians, the clenched fist of his other hand carrying a glint of blue. He was grandstanding, and he hoped it was enough to make them back down.

With all three weapons poised to fire, Solana stepped out of the woods, holding her own weapon, which Kaidan hadn't even known about. "Stop!" one of the officers barked, nervously turning his weapon on her.

"Wait!" Kaidan yelled, hearing a distinctly turian echo of his cry coming from the pool behind him. He lowered his weapon, knowing that concentrated assault rifle fire at that range would take down his shields, but it would shred Solana. "Let's talk about this."

Out of nowhere, the turian in charge of the three was howling in pain, blue blood spilling from the gaps in the armour around his knee. The officer beside him turned, only to encounter an elbow to the face. The third, a gun pressed to the back of his head. Osaro had appeared out of the darkness behind them, along with the fire team from the shuttle drop. Casually, the spectre stepped over the moaning officer holding his knee and turned to face them. One of the marines kept his gun at the third officer's head while the others followed Osaro into the clearing.

"You two," The spectre motioned to the two standing PPS officers. "Carry him out of here. Walk for two hundred steps beyond that ridge and then wait for your backup." He tapped on his omni tool for a moment before nodding, "You have my credentials for your reports. Now get out of here."

No more instruction was needed as they mutely picked up their moaning comrade and pushed their way back into the forest. Slowly turning, Osaro gave Kaidan a quick look. "We don't have much time before this place is overrun with PPS officers." He then turned to look down at the two people still in the water and let out a long, disappointed sigh.

"Garrus Vakarian, step forward."

Kaidan watched his former crewmate give his lover a long look. As he passed her in the water, their hands and briefly their temples met, before he turned back to his accuser. Osaro glanced at his human protégé and whispered "Keep your weapon trained on Shepard. If she moves, hit her with a tranquilizer shot."

As Garrus stepped out of the water, stripped of his clothes, Osaro motioned for the marines to step to his side. "Have you heard your Commander's charges?"

Garrus said nothing, so Osaro continued. "Garrus Vakarian, by galactic council law, you have been charged with aiding and abetting Commander Shepard in three counts of murder, including that of a council spectre, mass genocide, war crimes and treason to the Council-"

"You have no idea what you're doing," he replied stoically and Kaidan saw Osaro's jaw clench. The spectre took several long strides towards the turian, and the two of them stood toe to toe, their eyes on each other. Osaro's mouth was moving, but Kaidan couldn't make out the words, other than "your species," before he saw Garrus' chin rise a fraction of an inch in defiance.

"Maybe you should check your sources," Garrus bit out as the marines standing next to him grabbed his bare arms. They were wrestling him out of the way when one of them pointed at Shepard.

"She's charging a biotic attack!" he yelled in earnest. Having been focused on his turian captive, it was only then that Osaro realized the biotic glow that had gathered around Shepard. Immediately he pulled out his pistol, as did the marines. "Don't try anything!" He called out.

"She can't control it!" Garrus eyes were frantic, the marines fighting to keep him back. "She's giving herself up!"

Shepard, her arms in the air, was slowly making her way towards them. "I'm surrendering," she cried out, but the turian marines were getting nervous. Their fingers twitched on the triggers of their guns and Osaro gave Kaidan a nod towards his secondary weapon. Raising the tranquilizer gun, he pressed his lips together, his eyes meeting hers as he took aim. The shot hit her in the lower abdomen and with an expression of shock she looked down at it. Licks of blue crawled up her neck, the drugs seeming to have no effect. Everyone watched in anticipation, but amazingly she remained standing. Osaro nodded at Kaidan and his second shot landed on her upper right arm. Still she walked towards them, arms raised.

"I'm surrendering," she repeated.

Frustrated, Osaro ripped the gun from Kaidan's hand. The next two shots hit her in the arm and shoulder, and she staggered backwards. "She's surrendering..." Garrus was pleading, his eyes searching out Kaidan's, but the biotic gave his head a brief shake. Another shot and she faltered, her mouth speaking silently the words she had been repeating. The water was only up to her shins now, her nakedness blinding in the moonlight, light streaks of red running down from the small puncture wounds. She was hunched over and unsteady, but the tranquilizers still had not stopped her, nor the fire of blue that surrounded her. Osaro stepped to the edge of the water, aiming the gun directly at her and planting a fourth shot in her neck.

Kaidan watched mutely as his former lover wavered before falling to her knees. She was looking down at her hands, her wrist still held out in surrender. The feeling of betrayal was nearly choking him.

Still the biotic fury continued, small rocks beginning to levitate around their feet. Osaro huffed angrily, yanking the assault rifle out of the nearest marine's hands and storming into the water. He stood above her for a moment, staring down at her.

"She is trying to surrender damn it!" Garrus yelled, but Osaro was deaf to the world. He lifted her head so their eyes met, though they were glossy from the drugs now coursing through her veins.

"Have you ever heard the saying 'Out of the crooked timber of humanity no straight thing can ever be made'? I used to think you were the exception to that rule," he said quietly before raising the rifle and bringing the butt of it down onto her face.

There was a horse yell, and in the next instant Osaro was spinning. In the amount of time it had taken Shepard to hit the water, Garrus had relieved himself of his captors, and before the spectre realized it, he'd been hit with a nasty upper cut to the side of the head. As he staggered, Garrus dropped to his knees with a splash, pulling Shepard's limp body out of the shallow water and into his lap. He was wiping the wet hair and blood out of her eyes when Osaro balled his fist and struck him hard along the scarred side of his face. The kneeling turian took the blow, and then a second, before Kaidan reached them, catching the spectre's cocked fist. He shook his head once, and Osaro seemed to draw back, his composure faltering for a moment as he glanced at the watching marines. With his lowered hand he shoved Kaidan aside, snatching his weapon where it had fallen in the shallow water.

During their struggle, Garrus had stood, Shepard naked and limp in his arms. He did not flinch when Osaro drew his pistol. Through the blood that ran down his face, his eyes calmly met the end of the barrel aimed at his head. There was another rumble of thunder and tiny ripples began appearing on the surface of the water, the light of the massive moon almost extinguished.

The two of them stood there for several moments in silence, their eyes glued to one another. The marines were fidgeting, their guns still raised as they watched from a short distance. From behind him he felt someone pressed something into his hand. It was Solana, and he glanced down to find an article of clothing, snatched from the pile near the shore. Approaching again, Kaidan eyed Osaro's gun before placing a hand on Garrus' arm.

"It's over Garrus" he whispered, "Let me take care of her from here."

His eyes left the spectre, bright blue and earnest as they looked sideways at him. Slowly, he nodded, and Kaidan placed the shirt over the naked woman in his arms. Osaro removed a small piece of black fabric from his belt and held it out with his free hand. It was a loose woven shroud. Taking it, Kaidan unfolded it and slid it over the unconscious woman's head. "For her own safety," he explained, and Garrus nodded very slightly. The spectre's gun was still trained on the other turian's head, and as the remains of the fire team stood close by he finally allowed his former crewmate to take their commander out of his arms. As soon as his arms were free, one of the marines quickly attached a set of ion cuffs.

Kaidan stepped back, pulling Shepard closer to his chest, trying to protect her dignity and shield her from the eyes that watched them. Feeling her warm skin against his, inhaling the soft scent of her hair – he had often imagined holding her again, but never like this. As her slick body pressed against his, Kaidan was struck with the sudden, sad realization that once again Shepard was giving up her life to save his - his and millions more. Happiness, love, hope; it was penance paid to stave off another bloody war. She had accomplished as much as she could in the short window she had before having to resign herself to incarceration and ultimately inaction.

"Bring in the shuttle," Osaro ordered into his comm., his eyes never leaving the turian in front of him. There was a disturbing edge to his voice when he addressed him again. "What sort of turian serves a pro human terrorist group?"

"I served Commander Shepard," he answered, spitting a mouth full of blue blood on the wet ground.

"Yes you did," Osaro replied coolly. "For your conduct I should let you rot in the satellite prison Kovartha, or leave you in the radioactive Matu desert on Tuchanka," Osaro hissed at Garrus angrily, the rain diluting the line of blood trickling from a crack in his cheek plate. Off in the distance there were yells followed by the sound of shuttle engines. He prayed to no one in particular that the shuttle would make it to them before the PPS reinforcements. "Instead, in respect to your previous combat record and your family's reputation I am placing you under house arrest until further notice." Garrus' head dropped slightly, and Kaidan noticed the spectre lean in. The rain was falling harder now and he had to listen closely to hear. "If you run, I will personally hunt you down. If you attempt to contact anyone besides the family members in your home, you will get the unfortunate pleasure of experiencing Kovartha. And if you so much as show your face on the Citadel before your time is up, I will not hesitate to kill you."

Thankfully, the shuttle then swiftly appeared over the nearest hill, its door opening as it lowered itself just above the surface of the pool. Kaidan was heading for the open door when he heard Osaro bark out one last order. "Take her with you," Osaro yelled over the whir of the shuttle as he nodded towards Solana. Two of the marines took her by the arms. "She can join her brother in his sentence until further notice."

Glancing over his shoulder, Kaidan's eyes briefly met Solana's before she and her brother were directed at gunpoint into the woods and back towards their family home.

"PPS backup is going to be here any moment," Osaro yelled, leaping past him into the shuttle, which gave slightly as he landed. He reached down to take the woman from Kaidan's arms, but the biotic shrugged him off, pulling himself up carefully and laying Shepard down on one of the long benches. The door was closing as he caught sight of two PPS officers appearing in the clearing as they pulled away.

Behind him, Osaro was holding two bags, one of which he tossed on the floor at their feet. It was the bag Solana had carried, and it fell open, the rations and supplies tumbling out.

"I told you they were running."

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	24. Epilogue

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EPILOGUE

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Four armed turian marines were standing out front to greet his shuttle as it landed. In the partial moon light, their expressions were traditionally bleak and unreadable as they gave him professional nods, the sergeant pressing his fist to his chest. Kaidan returned the gesture. "Any problems?"

"Nothing since the blue suns bounty hunter we caught the other day."

Kaidan nodded bleakly, his eyes drifting towards the house. "Where is he?"

"I'll take you."

It was a dull night, with Manea's gaze elsewhere, the crescent moon was not nearly as bright as it had been the last time he was there. The armed marine led him inside the well lit home, down the massive hall and towards the other end of the house. He opened the door and motioned to the raised stone patio a short ways into the garden. Garrus was seated at a table, his back to him, Solana standing nearby. She glanced up when the door closed and silently made her way towards him.

"How is he?" Kaidan asked, quietly. Though the forest around them whistled and chirped with life, the night air seemed reserved and somber.

"He spends hours working on datapads... he doesn't sleep much," she explained, worry creasing the plates around her eyes. "I ask, but he hasn't been willing to tell me much of anything."

"And you? How have you been?"

"I'm alright," she glanced around. "Dad went to the Citadel right after it happened, said he was going to spend some time in the archives. It's been strange here with just the two of us."

"Listen, Solana, I'm sorry that-"

"No. You were doing your job. We're lucky things ended as well as they did."

Kaidan dropped his head and nodded. "Your house arrest has been officially lifted. For right now the guards will stay for your safety and to watch your brother. Shepard lobbied for his release, but they won't make an official decision until they read his account."

Solana swallowed as she took the news, and without a second thought, Kaidan reached for her and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Tentatively she placed her palms on his shoulders and he closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry I got you involved in this," he said softly, but she shook her head and pulled away.

"I'm not," she answered, giving him a sad smile. "Listen, I know you're short on time and now that I can send messages I've got to check up on Mom. We'll talk. Message me when you can."

He nodded, his hand lingering on hers before reluctantly letting her go. After she had vanished inside the house, he headed towards the subject of his visit. Climbing the few stone steps that led to the raised patio, he came up behind the familiar, seated figure. Spread out across the table were stacks of datapads, with only a little room spared for a glass of something dark red and an untouched plate of food.

"Commander," Garrus muttered as his former shipmate came around the side of the table.

"Actually it's Major now."

Garrus stared blankly back at him for a moment before motioning to the empty chair across from him."Congratulations." There was a note of sarcasm in his voice. "I noticed they've already painted the shuttle."

"No, that's just a loaner we picked up at the Citadel," Kaidan corrected.

The turian sighed a little bitterly. "So, I suppose you're a spectre now?"

"Not exactly. I've been called back to Earth for the trial. After that well... we'll see."

Garrus didn't comment, his eyes drifting away from his guest and fixing on a point somewhere on the horizon. "How is she?"

"She's doing fine. She's strong." Kaidan shifted uneasily. This wasn't supposed to be purpose of their meeting, but he felt he owed his old teammate a proper answer. "There were three attempts on her life before she could be released to the Alliance. One was a pretty close call. We had to sneak her off the Citadel and onto the Normandy for our return. Admiral Anderson has taken command for our trip back to Earth." Garrus' eyes drifted upward, his gaze staring hard at the starry sky.

"When we boarded the ship the day after her capture, the crew was waiting for us in the CIC. Lined up at attention, alien crew members, Cerberus personnel and ex-Alliance soldiers..." Kaidan shook his head thoughtfully. "It was something to see. All those people choosing to follow her to the end."

"Shepard would inspire nothing less," Garrus sighed as he picked up whatever he was drinking and sipped it absently. "How did things go on the Citadel?"

Kaidan shrugged. "We had to use the Norrulus as a decoy to keep the batarians guessing. Osaro had an entire platoon watching the Normandy crew on our way to the station, and personally stood over Joker's shoulder the entire trip, convinced there would be a mutiny."

"And was there?"

"Of course not," Kaidan sighed. "When we arrived at the Citadel, Osaro spent several hours with Shepard in interrogation. I don't know what she told him, but he joined her when she met with the council." Garrus' attention returned to Kaidan as he continued. "I wasn't present for it, but I heard it was a media circus when it was announced there would be no public trial and that Anderson was stepping down as the human council representative."

"The council knows she's right and they have no idea what to do about it," Garrus answered simply.

"But you know I'm not here to update you during your media blackout. It's about the terms of your house arrest."

The turian plucked a datapad from the pile on the table and offered it towards his former teammate. Kaidan briefly checked the contents.

"It's all here?"

"Everything that's anybody's business," he answered grudgingly. Sighing, he glanced down at the plate of food then up at the human across from him. "What of my request to see her?"

Kaidan dropped his eyes to the table. "You already know the answer, Garrus. It's just not possible. Shepard is in isolation and will be until the Alliance holds its military trial, though you and I both know that's just a formality. From what I've been told she won't be allowed contact with any of her former Cerberus crew for the foreseeable future... and that includes you."

He expected his words to slice into Garrus' guarded exterior, bringing on a flood of anger, but instead the turian's mandibles simply pressed against his face as he gave a solemn nod. "Perhaps you can do something for me?"

"That depends."

Garrus produced something from under the table and placed it on top of the pile of datapads. An old hardcover volume with a warn spine and yellowing pages. "She left this here... maybe you can give it to her?"

"I don't know..."

"It's important to her."

Taking the book was probably a mistake, and giving it to Shepard could be tricky and would likely get him knee deep in trouble - but seemingly by its own accord, his hand reached out to pull the book closer. Don Quixote... he almost laughed.

"I will report that I had your full cooperation." Kaidan explained distantly, his gaze lingering on the book. "When it comes up for review, I will recommend that your house arrest be lifted."

It was hard to tell if his former shipmate had even heard him, as the turian's eyes continued to look past him and up at the sky. Kaidan paused for only another moment before collecting his things. As he stood to leave, Garrus spoke. "For what it's worth, I'm going to try to get the hierarchy to make preparation."

"For... the reapers." Kaidan filled in.

"Shepard and I spent long hours discussing the hypothetical _how_s and _when_s of all sorts of galaxy wide invasions. What we didn't realize was that once you start, you can't help but run the numbers over and over - all the scenarios, the possibilities - they are endless and tragic."

"That's fine Garrus, but I still can't fathom the _why_. What possible reason would such a powerful race have to attack us?"

"We quickly learned not to discuss the 'why'. You can't. Believe me when I say, that's a subject that could drive a person mad, because there is no acceptable reason, on any level, why an entire galaxy of intelligent life should be snuffed out of existence. Whatever their motive is, it has surely been warped by innumerable years of introspective, neurotic deliberation."

"So?"

"The major races are unprepared, the entire galaxy in denial. We both came to the same conclusion - the reapers will hit the homeworlds first. Based on current numbers, Earth and Palaven will be hit hardest in the beginning." Garrus leaned forward. "I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me you'll get Shepard off Earth when it begins."

Kaidan sighed uncomfortably. How could he make that sort of pledge? "We don't even know if-"

"Please do this for me. If we're lucky, you'll never have to worry about it, but I will sleep easier knowing someone there is watching her back."

Kaidan's jaw clenched. There was no accusation in his former shipmate's eyes, but the echo of his words tore open the old wound between them. Maybe he could see it, because Garrus stood, stepping a little closer. "You've already been watching both our backs this far. If we're going to see this through to the end we need to stand together. I'm only asking you do what I now cannot - to keep her safe. I will do my best to... return the favour," he added, glancing past him towards where he had been speaking with Solana. Between them he had extended his open palm, the offering of an apology and a pledge, it hung there like an unwrapped bandage.

Finally Kaidan nodded, tucking the book under his arm, he accepting the turian's handshake.

"Just make sure you do the same for yourself," Kaidan ordered. "We all need someone to fight for."

As their hands released, Garrus cracked a hint of a smile. "Isn't it funny... the reapers. The very thing that brought us together will ultimately tear us all apart." His statement could have been about anything – he and Shepard, the Normandy crew, the endlessly questioned similarities between the galactic species - and maybe that's how he meant it.

With an awkward nod, Kaidan turned away. He didn't look back as he headed around the side of the house to where the shuttle waited, the armed marines nodding to him as they walked their patrols. As he stepped into the small ship, something slipped from the book. A piece of paper, he thought, as he bent down to pick it up, only to realize it was something much stranger; A pressed flower, white and browning along the edges. Frowning, he opened the book to place it back inside, only for it to crack where something else had been placed. A hand written note, half of it in shaky and uncertain Alliance standard, the bottom in a fluent cursive he recognized as turian. He didn't want to read it, but in spite himself his eyes picked up the first few lines:

_Before us is a tree, its branches heavy with shimmering golden fruit. Around the tree is a sea of broken glass. But now we can do more than simply admire the tree, as the pain we endure in the struggle to reach it is no longer shouldered by one. _

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end.

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Author's notes: We've finally made it! I was adamant I wouldn't leave this story unfinished. It was a long road, but I can finally breathe a sigh of relief. Big thank you to those of you who kept reminding me that people wanted to keep reading... you know who you are. And thank you to Spyke1985, for beta reading my long winded story and being so very patient with me. And of course, everyone's kind words make it all worth while.

As a random bonus, if you'd like to check out a playlist of songs I listened to quite often while writing this, you can find it on youtube by search for 'efleck's VVV playlist'.


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